


Obstruction of Justice

by hopeassassin



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Bond Development, Character Development, F/M, Fluff, Policeman AU, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeassassin/pseuds/hopeassassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a traffic cop was not what Aomine Daiki had had in mind when he had promised his parents to do them proud by becoming part of the law enforcement of their beloved country.</p><p>Then again, he guessed meeting her was worth the torture of having to deal with redundant work day after day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aimys](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Aimys).



> Written for Aimys' prompt over at Tumblr: _AU, Policeman!Daiki. Momoi breaking the law leads to them meeting each other. The rest is up to you. :3_
> 
> This is my fill for it. C:

Daiki heaved a deep, dramatic sigh, his eyes rolling skywards.

 

He pressed his lower back against the side of the car, his hand absently wandering to the cup of coffee he’d left on the vehicle’s smooth, white surfaced rooftop. His bored, cerulean gaze slid toward the boulevard he was pulled over to the side of.

 

His intelligent, sharp eyes stared accusingly at the cars, busses, vans, trucks and other forms of land transportation devices as they zoomed past him. He glared vehemently at them, as though it were those poor people’s fault that he felt so miserable and dissatisfied with the turn his life had taken abruptly.

 

Realistically, he was well aware that it was really no one’s fault that he had been assigned to the traffic bureau, instead of the criminal investigation. People who knew better than him, better than those drivers minding their own business taking themselves from point A to point B via Daiki’s assigned boulevard, had decided that appointing him to his desired workstation when he was fresh out of the academy was unacceptable. Thus, seeing that regardless of his inexperience, he had great potential, they decided not to waste it and at the very least put him on the forefronts of the action.

 

 _What a joke_ – some action _this_ was, Daiki thought bitterly as he crumpled the carton cup in his hand after downing his coffee in a large, angry gulp. Pulling over underage drivers, speeding cars and nonsensical shit like that was _not_ why he had joined the academy. It wasn’t what he’d poured all his effort and energy in studying the Japanese laws for, and it was most certainly not why he had strived so hard to graduate among the top students of his year.

 

Being a traffic cop was _not_ what Aomine Daiki had had in mind when he had promised his parents to do them proud by becoming part of the law enforcement of their beloved country.

 

Admittedly, he did realize that stopping speeding folks at a key junction such as this was also important. In fact, he had always respected every part of the police force – even before becoming part of it. So he was by no means dissing traffic policemen’s job at all—make no mistake.

 

What displeased him so greatly was the fact that he _did not want_ to be part of the traffic bureau, damn it! He was a man with a dream and great drive, and this was _not_ where he had been aiming to end up with those.

 

He heard the passenger door of the car open to his left. His gaze slid languidly to acknowledge the auburn head poking out from the vehicle, peering demurely up at him.

 

Daiki’s brows knitted as he regarded his partner. The other man flinched at the intensity of his colleague’s scrutiny, shrinking back as far as he could while still maintaining wary eye-contact.

 

“S-sorry, Aomine-san,” he began, his voice so shaky it made Daiki scoff. The damn wimp—how that guy ever made it through training was simply beyond him. “B-but you said you’d set up the radar speed gun, and we’ve been here for half an hour, and it has yet to be set up…” he rambled on and on, his words fading into barely mumbles by the end.

 

His tone made Aomine’s eyes flare with ire. Damn it, _this guy_ … Couldn’t he just _speak up_ and talk like a _normal guy_ for a change, instead of this spineless version of himself? For fuck’s sake…

 

“What was that?!” Daiki snapped irritably, making his colleague scrambled out of the police car.

 

“N-no, nothing, never mind! I’m sorry! I won’t complain—I’ll just do it myself. I’m sorry for bothering you!” Sakurai babbled, scurrying to get the equipment out of the backseat of their car.

 

His partner watched the auburn-haired guy’s short scuffle with the radar, only to sigh in defeat when he saw Sakurai wasn’t going to get anywhere anytime soon, if left to his own devices with this task.

 

“I’ll do it,” he told to the struggling officer.

 

His interjection threw Sakurai into another long string of apologies for anything and everything humanly conceivable, his theatrics complete with head-rattling bows.

 

Once the radar was set up on the side of their car, positioned so that Daiki could peer into the screen of the device, the navy-haired man threw a nonchalant glance to his partner sitting in the seat beside him. Sakurai looked nervous, jittery and entirely out of his element.

 

He was such a pathetic sight that it made Aomine feel repentant for having lashed out like that at him.

 

The truth was that Daiki himself had been pretty psyched about today.

 

After all, today was the day when they were getting their uniforms. They had graduated from the police academy a week ago, but today was the day when they really became a part of the police force for real.

 

They had been summoned to the precinct with promises of grandeur and whatnot, warnings for them to be prepared for anything that might happen to them once they showed their faces to the Superintendent of their area to be assigned their posts. They had been required to get up at a truly unholy hour, and that, coupled with his excitement about the day’s upcoming events, had made it difficult for the sapphire-eyed man to get much sleep.

 

All of that excitement was wasted afterwards, when he found out that they had assigned him to traffic police with one of his (most unimpressive) fellow graduates from the academy.

 

It wasn’t really Sakurai’s fault Daiki had to be here and do something that wasn’t part of his vision of what he’d be supposed to do as a policeman. It wasn’t Sakurai’s fault that the letdown of being assigned to the wrong bureau hadn’t completely rid the smaller guy of his nervousness of his first day on the job.

 

In a way, Daiki could relate to the dude’s misery.

 

He also imagined having a grouchy partner like himself was probably not a walk in the park for the auburn-headed guy either.

 

So the taller man sighed deeply in resignation, rolling his eyes towards the road.

 

“My bad, Sakurai,” he mumbled, gaining his colleague’s attention at once. “Didn’t mean to bite your head off. Guess I’m still a bit ruffled from the morning—not used to getting up so early. Especially for shit like this.”

 

His apology was half-assed at best, but it was as good as it got with Aomine Daiki. He wasn’t the apologizing kind of guy, so even this much as something to be grateful for. _Especially_ when it was the world that needed to apologize to Daiki, not him to anyone else.

 

His logic was nonsensical, but for some odd reason, instead of calling on his bullshit, Sakurai simply smiled in his peculiar, wavering way from his place in the passenger seat.

 

“Ah, there’s no need for you to say that, Aomine-san!” he said hurriedly, waving his hand at his colleague. “I’m the one who should say sorry! I know that you were one of the best in our class, and I’m sure you were aiming to do something else with your career. So this is probably not the place you wanted to be—with such a useless partner such as me for company, too – I’m so very, very sorry for that!—but I will do my best from here on not to get in your way much!”

 

Daiki blinked in nonplus at the tirade Sakurai had given him. This had been rather unexpected as a reaction to his earlier outburst. He wasn’t used to people taking responsibility for _his_ inability to rein in his temper.

 

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great Inspector one day!” Sakurai added as an afterthought, with a coy grin.

 

The pair of deep blue eyes stared perplexed at him, before a slight colour rose to the tan complexion of Aomine’s cheeks. His grin was so wide and joyful, he looked like a little boy told he’d grow up to be a superhero. He clapped one of his large hands against Sakurai’s back, and it was all the auburn-headed man could manage not to sputter in response to the force he had used on him.

 

“Oi, Sakurai, seems like your heart is in the right place!” Daiki cheered with his beaming grin. “We may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I can see this being the beginning of a beautiful partnership!”

 

Ryou smiled timidly, mentally noting how ridiculously easy it was to get back in Aomine-san’s good graces. Suddenly, the humble man didn’t think his partner as intimidating as he had seemed back in the academy – after all, it was impossible to view a person this simple as very threatening.

 

* * *

 

Daiki’s first week as part of the traffic police was the only time he was even remotely interested in the work he did.

 

For, after the first week, everything started getting quite repetitive.

 

When he pulled people over, inspecting their documents, or late at night when cars were swerving too much not to be suspicious, the dumb bastards kept giving him the same excuses, thinking they were being incredibly original.

 

By the end of the month, the navy-haired policeman felt like he had heard and seen just about anything worth mentioning on this post.

 

Frankly speaking, somewhere in the back of his mind, Daiki had hoped that his assignment to the traffic bureau had been some kind of mistake. That any moment while he was taking care of paper work in the office at the precinct, someone would come in through the door and announce that there has been a mix-up in the documents, he was supposed to be an intern at the criminal investigation, and that they were very sorry for this whole ordeal.

 

He would, of course, gracefully forgive them, and just take his rightful place at the job of his dreams.

 

However, none of that came to pass. The days turned into weeks, the weeks – into a month, and still there was not even a prayer of his daydream becoming a reality.

 

And the more time passed, the more Daiki realized that this was what he would have to do for the time being, so it was high time he got his head out of his ass and started doing his job right—regardless how displeased he was with it.

 

He obeyed his superiors without griping, although his expression spoke volumes of how tedious he found his post. Still, he took the workload they pushed upon him without contending it, doing everything required of him quickly and efficiently—like could only be expected of him, one of the academy’s prodigies this year around.

 

Still, it was impossible to say that having to do work he disliked didn’t take its toll on him. He was only human. He was also very bad at managing his emotions, so of course, by the end of the month, he had become something of a cynic.

 

Every day he woke up early, took a shower, brushed his teeth. He shaved, sardonically eyeing his reflection in the mirror as he did so. After drying up, he donned on his blue police uniform, made himself some coffee and left home at ungodly early hours so as not to be late. He joined up with Sakurai after driving the patrol car to the guy’s house, and their days from then on repeated with only slight alterations.

 

Sometimes he caught more kids without licenses than he caught drunks driving. Sometimes there were more foreigners about to enter the wrong lane. Other times there were more street racers with delusions of immortality or invincibility.

 

Other times still, the day was just so lazy and _pointless_ , there was barely anything to do at all. The minutes and hours dragged on, uneventfully, torturously slow.

 

Those were the days that were killing Daiki inside.

 

They made him wonder whether there had been any point to trying as hard as he had, if this was all his hard work amounted to in the end.

 

* * *

 

On his third month of being a traffic policeman, Aomine Daiki felt like he was perfectly versed in anything and everything that could happen to him while on the post.

 

Of course, he had no delusions that there would be moments when someone wouldn’t stop when he tried to pull them over and he’d have to pursue the car in a high speed chase down the streets of Tokyo. He’d long outgrown such fantasies already.

 

So when he saw a motorcycle coming closer much too fast, it didn’t take any prodding from Sakurai to his side, nor as much as a look in direction of the radar for Daiki to know that the motorcycle needed to be pulled over.

 

He noted absentmindedly that the figure was much too small to be masculine. The bodysuit was also much too curvy for the bike rider to be a guy of small stature. As he approached what Daiki had concluded to be a speeding chick on a motorbike, he shook his head in disapproval to himself.

 

However, when she took her helmet off and waved around her exquisitely coloured long tresses of hair, Daiki realized that she wasn’t just some chick with a bike—she was most possibly _the_ chick with _the_ bike.

 

The lines of her face were smooth and soft. Her lips were full and curled into a coy smile. Her eyes were twinkling, lively, as they locked with his, and when they did he noticed their beautiful magenta irises. Her body—flattered endlessly by the form-fitting black bodysuit she was wearing—was curved in all the right ways. _Especially_ around the chest area—a weakness of Daiki’s ever since he had become aware of his blossoming sexuality back when he was still hitting puberty.

 

But, seriously, what was with those boobs?! Was it humanly possible to have such huge tits on such a voluptuous body? Was that even legal?

 

He shook his head to clear it of those thoughts—they were unprofessional, and Aomine Daiki was _very_ professional while he was on the clock—as he approached her. He noticed that she had a hard time keeping upright the heavy bike once it stopped. He also needed to exert a certain amount of effort to ignore how alluring she looked from the back, the tight-fitting leather outlining the perfect globes of her ass, with her legs spread and propping the motorcycle up to the side.

 

He cleared his throat before standing next to her, his expression rid of any and all emotions and thoughts that had crossed his mind just moments prior. She batted her ridiculously long and perfectly curled eyelashes at him, waiting for him to speak.

 

His eyes narrowed when he realized what she was doing.

 

“Miss, are you aware of the speed limit within urban areas?” he quipped testily.

 

She angled her head to cutely pout up at him. Her reaction made his brows knit closer together.

 

“Yes, of course—60 km/h!” she responded chirpily, continuing to flutter in his general direction with her perfect lashes.

 

Daiki frowned down at her, then rubbed the bridge of his nose roughly in hopes of preventing the encroaching headache. At this point in time, he wasn’t sure if she was poking fun at him, or if she was a genuine law-breaker oblivious of the speed limits.

 

There was the option of this being someone else’s bike, which he didn’t want to ponder just yet.

 

Or, worse still, that she was underage and without any license to ride any vehicle whatsoever, therefore oblivious to the traffic regulations.

 

He was no longer sure he wanted to find out, but duty was calling, so there was no way out of this now.

 

“ _Actually_ , it’s _forty_ ,” he clarified snippily. “Because you are in an urban area.”

 

He shifted his gaze back to her and instantaneously regretted it, because she was still doing that ludicrousness with her eyes. And, was it just him, or was she standing a bit differently, so that her chest was becoming even more prominent (if at all physically possible)? 

 

“Do you know how much you were going at?” he ploughed on, his expression listless and a bit bored as he glared at her.

 

She blinked innocently, tilting her head to the side with an index finger put to her cheek. She made a thoughtful hum in the back of her throat as she mocked pondering his query. Her acts were starting to annoy Daiki, because in her attempts to distract him, she was undermining his authority.

 

He did _not_ become part of the _police force_ to have reckless chicks like _her_ undermine his authority.

 

“Mmm, 50?” she ventured cheekily.

 

She seemed to recognize that her little innocent act wasn’t working as well as she hoped on him—or to her advantage at all—when Daiki’s brows narrowed over his eyes again.

 

“Try 90,” he told her in a clipped tone, regarding her icily. “Hand me your license and registration, please.”

 

His imperiousness couldn’t have been clearer—the “ _now_ ” was perfectly veiled and yet still inherent to his “request”.

 

Frankly, Daiki couldn’t help a jab of satisfaction at the way her pretty face blanched the moment he asked for her documents. To her credit, she schooled her features back into a saccharine expression before her lapse could’ve become too evident.

 

“I couldn’t possibly have been going that fast!” she protested weakly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. He recognized it for the tic of nervousness it was.

 

The officer’s face remained impassive, staring stonily back at her.

 

“You could try to argue with our brand new radar back there,” he pointed at the piece of equipment over his shoulder with his thumb, “but I really doubt your case will get through to anyone,” he told her easily, something of a mean grin curling the corners of his lips upward.

 

The pink-haired girl glared heatedly back at him, her irritation getting the better of her.

 

“That could have been anyone else’s reading!” she reasoned irately, crossing her hands under her chest with a huff.

 

It turned out to be a big mistake, because the bike started keeling sideways the moment her hands left the handles. She scurried to straighten it back up—putting considerable effort into the task—and trying her best to remain unfazed through the whole ordeal (and failing miserably at it).

 

Her face flushed with indignation when she saw the barely stifled laughter on the cop’s face.

 

“Yes, because we have people breaking the speed limits here all freaking day,” Daiki grumbled displeased, shaking his head in disapproval at her. “Your license and registration—I have yet to see them,” he reminded her, extending his hand—palm up and open, expectantly.

 

She threw him a panicked look before shifting her gaze away evasively. His brows narrowed stormily over his eyes.

 

The pink-haired girl gave him a sheepish laugh as she tapped her fist against the side of her temple in an airy gesture.

 

“Well, actually,” she began and Daiki braced for the nonsense that would surely follow, “this isn’t my bike. I was just delivering it to its rightful owner since he left it at my place last time. I don’t have its registration details.”

 

There it was. The nonsense. It was just as bad as he had suspected (if not worse).

 

Daiki heaved a great sigh, as though he were dealing with an exceptionally slow kid.

 

His reaction made the girl bristle visibly. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for that.

 

“I see,” he told her evenly. It made her wonder just how much and _what exactly_ he actually _saw_. “Speeding with someone else’s motorcycle, without even carrying the registration papers.” He nodded sagely, noting with self-satisfaction the growing wariness of her expression. “Step away from the vehicle and follow me, Miss,” he commanded steely, taking off in direction of the parked police car.

 

The pink-haired girl paled, and propped the bike up on its stand before jogging to match Daiki’s stride.

 

“Wait!” she called out to him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his uniform to make him stop.

 

He did, but when he turned to look at her, his look couldn’t have been more menacing whilst his facial features still remained as listless as ever. She worried her lip as she considered that her plan might end up backfiring.

 

“Isn’t there any way we could avoid this?” she asked him cryptically, jutting her chest out while putting her free hand over her collarbone. The gesture would have inadvertently drawn his eyes to her bosom, even if his gaze hadn’t already ventured there from her previous movement.

 

Her jab of triumph was short-lived: even though his eyes had wandered to her impressive bust, the moment her question sank in, he gave her a quick once-over. He eyed her from head to toe, his expression never changing while he did.

 

He proceeded to huff dismissively and turn his face away from her.

 

“Nice try, Pinkie. Not on your life,” he said as he was angling his face away from her.

 

She didn’t need to see him to hear the smug smirk in his voice.

 

She shook with indignation and barely contained anger as she walked after him. She would’ve given in to the urge and slugged him one for that haughty comment after that disregarding look he had given her, if not for the fact she was sure he’d arrest her for assault should she do it.

 

* * *

 

As the pink-haired girl—apparently called Momoi Satsuki, from what her driver’s license said—stormed away angrily from the police car, Daiki smirked and hummed a tune to himself as he finished filing away the papers for the fine he had issued her.

 

To his side, Sakurai’s eyes followed her closely while she mounted the bike, throwing one of her perfectly shaped, long legs over the side of the vehicle. She stuffed the fine’s bill in her back pocket, seething, before making the motorcycle’s engine roar to life. She put her helmet on with exasperation, proceeding to speed off and away from the policemen afterwards.

 

“Thinking she’d charm her way out of trouble,” Daiki grumbled under his breath irritably. “She’s got another thing coming, that damn cheeky minx. Not on my watch.”

 

And even though his voice held promise, his expression steadfast, Aomine’s partner stifled a chuckle as he turned to face the road again.

 

After all, how could Aomine-san believe himself when his eyes never once left the rear-view mirror until Momoi-san was completely out of sight?

 

* * *

 

Amber eyes blinked in confusion when their possessor’s friend draped herself lackadaisically over the coffee table.

 

“What’s wrong, Sacchi? Was getting the bike here more work than you thought?” the blonde asked knowingly, a good-natured smile stretching his lips.

 

His frowned in puzzlement when Satsuki’s expression turned sourer.

 

“It’s not that,” she whined pitifully, burying her face into the cold, smooth surface of the table. “I just got a fine for driving without the bike’s registration, and a ticket for speeding while I was coming here…” she sobbed out, depressed.

 

She lifted her head off the table when her friend found a hard time recovering from the fit of laughter he had burst into at the explanation for her rue.

 

“I’m _so_ glad my misery entertains you so,” she muttered darkly, glaring daggers at the blonde. “Ryou-chan, you idiot. This is all your fault.”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Ryouta apologized half-heartedly, waving a placating hand at her. Satsuki’s pout only deepened. “I’ll make sure not to leave my bike at your place anymore.” When she continued eyeing him evilly, he laughed again. “Come on, let me off the hook. How could I have known that they’d pull you over? If I did, I swear, I would’ve left the registration with you.”

 

She seethed quietly for a while longer before huffing and burying her face into the surface of the table again, wallowing in her own misery. Ryouta had to suppress a chuckle at her melodramatic antics.

 

“I know, _I know_ it’s not really your fault,” she lamented. “Doesn’t mean you’re not paying for my meals for the next three days that you’re staying in Japan, though.”

 

The blonde laughed merrily at her claim, sitting down next to her.

 

“Sure, sure. As long as my presence is non-compulsory – I don’t think Yukio will be thrilled at having you around for dinner every night of our stay.” He took a swig of his soda, oblivious to the wry glare his friend was throwing him.

 

“Hey, he gets to spend every goddamn day and even a goddamn bed with you—I should at least get some much-needed Ryou-chan Recharge Time on the rare occasions that you’re in Japan! Don’t get me wrong – I love Yukkun, but I am against his whole plot of monopolizing you the entire time! That is _not_ okay!” she complained cutely, making Ryouta pat her head fondly with a snicker.

 

“We’re still in our honeymoon phase, cut us some slack,” he cajoled. His plea fell on deaf ears as Satsuki puffed out her cheeks petulantly.

 

“As if!” she protested, sitting up straight and crossing her arms under her chest demonstratively. “You’ve been together for three years now! The fuck kind of honeymoon phase is that?!”

 

Ryouta chuckled mirthfully at her sensible retaliation. Still, he couldn’t help but notice her unusual briskness and readiness for confrontation.

 

“You sure seem on edge, Sacchi,” he observed, his eyes narrowing knowingly. “Did something happen before you came over?”

 

The pink-haired woman regarded him peevishly out of the corner of her eye before sighing in defeat. Her shoulders sagged as she slumped forward again, barely missing Ryouta’s can of soda as she draped herself over his coffee table again.

 

“I think I’m losing my touch, Ryou-chan,” she bemoaned pathetically, thumping her forehead against the table top.

 

The blonde’s sharp eyes widened. He leaned forward on his elbow against the table, peering curiously at the back of Satsuki’s pink haired head.

 

“What do you mean?” he queried, his voice a placating lilt.

 

“You know how I usually manage to flirt my way out of speeding tickets and the like?” Ryouta nodded with a small smirk. “Well, it _didn’t work_ this time!”

 

“Whoa!” he reacted dutifully, like a good friend should have. “Are you sure you were doing it right?”

 

Satsuki lifted her head off the table to send an indignant glare at her best friend. He waved his hands up at her in defeat.

 

“Okay, okay, sorry for asking!” he amended with a small grin. It was hard containing his amusement now.

 

“It’s not that!” she complained loudly, dragging out the syllables. “I mean, my boobs were practically in his face, and he was completely unimpressed!”

 

Her blond counterpart quirked an intrigued brow.

 

“Is he gay?” was his automatic response to her claim. Hell, Yukio—Ryouta’s boyfriend of three years—was gay, too, and _he_ was always impressed with Satsuki’s sizeable bust.

 

“No,” she answered quickly, only to start reconsidering immediately afterwards. “I don’t know,” she rectified with a narrowing of her finely shaped brows. “I certainly hope not,” she added thoughtlessly, causing Ryouta to throw her a curious look. “Gah, no, fuck that guy! I don’t care about him! He looked at me, all thorough and judgemental, and he just _huffed and looked away_!”

 

She slammed her fist on the table in fury. The suddenness of her action almost made her friend jump up in his seat next to her.

 

“I don’t care how good-looking and well-built he was!” she exclaimed, and Ryouta was thankful she seemed too engrossed in her monologue to notice him cackling impishly to her side. Suppressing his mirth at her antics was becoming next to impossible for the blond pilot. “ _No one_ scoffs and dismisses the one and only amazing Satsuki!” she insisted hotly. “Look at these round lips! Look at these perfect cheeks! These perfectly shaped, soft and squishy breasts! These full hips with the most perfect ass and slender legs! I worked really hard for this figure, you know! And I _know_ that it was not for naught!”

 

Yep, it was a lost cause. He was shaking with laughter uncontrollably. Worse still, poor Sacchi had gone completely ballistic, talking about herself and her physical traits like a madwoman—in a way he’d never heard her speak about anyone (least of all herself) before.

 

Gosh, that guy must’ve _really_ gotten under her skin, huh?

 

“If he could look at _this_ ,” she motioned down to herself with a flourish, “and _dismiss_ it, then there must be something wrong with him!”

 

Ryouta smiled wolfishly at her from behind his palm propped atop the table.

 

“I can vouch for that—if I were into that kind of stuff, even I would be all over you,” he assured her good-naturedly, making her confident frown set more firmly on her face.

 

“Right?!” she said rhetorically, nodding to herself in affirmation. “Good! Down with the unimpressionable cops, up with the voluptuous ladies!”

 

“How did you end up speeding in the first place, though? If you hadn’t, he wouldn’t have undermined your confidence, and he wouldn’t have fined you,” the blonde observed sagely. His words made Satsuki’s frown deepen.

 

“I couldn’t really help it! Once I got steady on that bike, feeling the wind against my body started feeling really awesome. I must’ve passed the speed limit at some point without having noticed.”

 

Satsuki eyed Ryouta curiously when he doubled over in laughter at her simple-minded explanation. She shrugged with a small smile, letting her friend enjoy one more laugh at her expense, while she plotted her possible revenge against that policeman.

 

Just you wait, officer Aomine. Satsuki made up her mind to be her most charming and alluring self should she meet him again.

 

* * *

 

Tokyo was a big city. It had many, many roads which were under supervision. Her chances of running into him again were slim.

 

Yet, as her luck would have it, she did end up running into him again—just a few weeks later.

 

When Daiki pulled the slightly speeding car over, he was almost certain he saw a shock of pink blur his vision. He shook his head to clear it of the impossibility of that while he stepped towards the now stopped car.

 

He discovered to his surprise—and utter chagrin—that it had indeed been that same shock of pink hair he had seen once before as well.

 

The navy haired man’s face contorted in disdain as he regarded the brightly grinning driver of the vehicle.

 

“Why, if it isn’t officer Aomine!” a familiar chirpy voice enthused once the window slid down. Daiki pointedly ignored the pleased jab he felt at the fact she had remembered his name. “Still protecting and upholding the sacred laws of safe driving, I see.”

 

Daiki’s brows narrowed and he glared heatedly down at her seated form.

 

“And you still haven’t learnt your lesson from last time I stopped you for the same thing, I see,” he mocked with a stony sneer. She tittered at his claim and shook her index finger at him condescendingly.

 

“Ah, but you will find that this is rather different from last time I was breaking the traffic law!” she informed him, making him raise a brow in mild intrigue.

 

“And how is it different, pray tell?” he queried, unimpressed.

 

“Well, for starters, this time I actually _have_ the registration papers—since this is _my_ car, and all.” She reached over towards the glove compartment.

 

She unwittingly ended up flashing him a clear view of her bare lower back when her shirt rode up—along with the sight (not to mention the _idea_ ) of her low-cut pink thong—before he shifted his eyes away from her in discomfort while she found what she was rummaging her glove compartment for.

 

When she sat back comfortably in her seat again, she peered curiously at his evasiveness while facing her as she passed him the car’s papers.

 

“ _And_ ,” she continued without pause, “I wasn’t all that much over the speed limit this time! I know for a fact that I was going at no more than 70—”

 

“75,” he corrected her dryly, a wry glare tearing her way. She didn’t let his interjection faze her.

 

“—because this time I was actually looking at my speed gauge,” she told him with a curt, self-pleased nod.

 

Daiki raised a brow in her direction while his eyes skimmed her car’s registration papers.

 

“Meaning, last time you were _not_ looking at your speedometer?” he asked in clarification, revelling in the way her expression dimmed in realization. His, in turn, brightened just barely perceptibly. “Yes, that’s what I thought. Your driver’s license as well, please.”

 

She put the laminated piece of paper in his open palm with a huff, crossing her arms under her chest in distaste. She did so on purpose and she expected to get some kind of reaction from him with the way her forearms emphasized her ample chest.

 

Satsuki was once again let down in her expectations of him when he never once tore his gaze away from studying the items in his grasp. She puffed her cheeks up, facing away from him—thus missing the glance he took of her miffed profile.

 

“Do you take some kind of sick satisfaction out of making fun of me, or something?” she questioned irately, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “I swear, people who openly dislike me need to try harder to piss me off as much as dealing with you does!”

 

Her statement made Daiki smirk smugly for a moment before he schooled his features back into the listless look she seemed to despise so much on him. Served her right, he believed—especially when she looked like the kind of pampered girl who was used to getting things throughout her life just for the sheer fact her face was a little (okay, maybe _a lot_ ) cute.

 

“Always good to know a feeling’s mutual,” he told her calmly, ignoring her question entirely. She glared at him evilly out of the corner of her almond-shaped eyes. “Now be so kind to step out of the car, Miss,” he ordered nonchalantly, moving away so she could comply.

 

Satsuki’s brows narrowed further over her eyes as she grudgingly did as told.

 

“Will you knock it off with the ‘miss’ and ‘madam’ and all other sort of nonsense like that, please?” she asked snippily as she trudged heavily after him in a very unladylike manner. “It makes me feel _old_ , and at best you’re just a few years my senior. _Thank you_ for your understanding in advance,” she added pointedly, causing a grin to break out on Daiki’s face when she wasn’t looking at him.

 

What she didn’t know was that the older of them was actually her—since she was born a few months before him—as her driver’s license had informed him upon a quick inspection. It’s not like he had been curious to find out, or anything.

 

She didn’t really need to know that, though.

 

“What am I supposed to call you then?” he asked apathetically while he opened the door to his car before plopping down on the seat.

 

“The name’s Satsuki—you can just call me that,” she suggested ill-temperedly with a noncommittal shrug.

 

“I don’t think so,” was Daiki’s immediate response. It made the woman bristle and demand vehemently why the hell not as he demonstratively ignored her. He was getting rather good at ignoring her.

 

There’s no way he was calling her by her first name. He’d end up liking it. And that would be just too unprofessional.

 

Daiki was _not_ unprofessional, because he took his job very seriously.

 

* * *

 

He blinked profusely as he snapped out of his reverie with a start.

 

His cerulean eyes shifted to focus on the curious glance his long-time friend was giving him from across the booth.

 

“Huh, what?” Daiki said intelligently, resuming eating his pasta that had been left forgotten in the bowl in front of him.

 

“We’ve been calling you for a while now, trying to get your attention,” the teal-headed young man said evenly, taking a sip of his vanilla shake. “You were zoning out. Where did you go?”

 

Aomine gave his friends a one-shouldered shrug as he dug further into his dinner.

 

“Just lost in thought for a moment there,” he told them in a nonchalant tone.

 

In being entirely too interested in his pasta than his friends’ reactions to his claim, he missed the odd look they shared amongst themselves.

 

“Since when do _you_ spend enough time thinking to ‘get _lost in thought_ ’?” the redhead across the table from Daiki queried warily, making the policeman throw him a mean glare in response. It was all the navy-haired guy could manage, considering his mouth was still full and he had an image of a supposed role model to uphold. “What were you so engrossed in you got lost in thought over? Last month’s issue of ‘Busty Babes’ or something?”

 

“For a fag, you sure know a lot about porn mags, Taiga,” Daiki commented crudely with a smug smirk. His expression (not to mention the smartass comment) was so infuriating it earned him a kick to the shin under the table from an aggravated redhead.

 

“Who are you calling a fag, you ass?!” Kagami’s temper flared, much to his companion’s amusement. The grin on the darker male’s face made Taiga kick him again for good measure. “And, just for the record, you are paying for my therapy after all the trauma you’ve caused me while we still lived together, with all the skanks you brought over to screw in our apartment while I was trying to sleep!”

 

“Pay for your own damn therapy, you pussy!” Daiki retaliated, making a grab for Taiga’s collar and pulling him closer. He glared at him heatedly from across the table, his fist with a hold of the redhead’s shirt shaking with anger.

 

“Need I remind you two that we’re at a dinner table?” the indifferent voice of the third person in the booth filtered through their rage-filled minds. “Also, you’re making quite the spectacle of yourselves. I’d appreciate it if you dropped this immediately.”

 

Although Kuroko’s voice was pleasant and even, the ice-cold undertones instantaneously cooled the two hot-headed young men’s tempers. Daiki relinquished his hold on Taiga’s shirt and sat back in his seat like a normal person. Kagami in turn busied himself with fixing his collar brusquely.

 

Tetsuya heaved a deep sigh as his two closest people relapsed in petulant silence in wake of their brief scuffle. He spent all day looking after kids, and he would really rather his boyfriend and best friend act at least a little more mature from time to time; he wished he wouldn’t have to spend even his precious evenings looking after kids who never grew up despite becoming almost two meters tall.

 

“Sorry,” Taiga muttered in a pouting tone, making his significant other nod sagely as he accepted the apology.

 

The smaller guy’s eyes wandered to Daiki expectantly, but he shrugged when instead of apologizing—even as begrudgingly as Taiga had—the tanned man just shifted his gaze away guiltily.

 

“I have to admit that Taiga’s right, though,” Tetsu began this time, his expression searching as it fixed upon Aomine. “It’s rather rare for you to get so lost in thought you wouldn’t hear us talking to you. Something on your mind?”

 

Kagami cocked a brow when his boyfriend’s query caused his former roommate’s cheeks get dusted with colour briefly. He composed himself very quickly, ridding his face of any and all traces of his earlier lapse. However, it was already too late—both his best friends had caught the look that crossed his eyes.

 

“Nothing really,” he tried to reason nonchalantly. “Just thinking about work.”

 

“I thought you didn’t like being part of the traffic bureau,” Kagami ventured, leaning back into his seat as he regarded Daiki listlessly.

 

“I don’t,” the navy-haired man said with a shrug. “I’ve been hoping that they’d promote me and reassign me sometime soon. I graduated among the top of my class, you know,” he reminded them. His pompous comment made Taiga roll his eyes.

 

“And again he goes with the underappreciated prodigy shit,” the redhead muttered irritably, turning his face away from his companion.

 

“It’s the truth, though,” Daiki insisted steadfastly.

 

It led to the two immersing themselves into another game of biting each other back and forth with clipped comments over dinner—a favourite pastime of theirs ever since their adolescence.

 

What the policeman didn’t know was that his deflecting tactic was very obvious to Kuroko, but the smaller man decided not to call him out on his bluff for now. If he didn’t want to discuss it, then it wasn’t worth discussing yet, Tetsuya firmly believed as he dug into his own pasta.

 

As for Daiki, there was no way he was telling them about that cheeky girl he’d already met twice, by pure chance, within the same month. He couldn’t possibly hope to explain to them why his mind was so stuck on her (or endure Taiga’s incessant teasing that would surely come forth as soon as the topic came up), especially since he couldn’t even explain it to himself.

 

* * *

 

If you asked his honest opinion, Aomine Daiki would be hard pressed to deny things were starting to get ridiculous.

 

Especially when every time he pulled someone over for a document check or speeding, he half-expected to see her sitting in the driver’s seat, with that stupidly wide, beaming grin upon her gorgeous face.

 

It was ridiculous because all he knew about her was her name and the impressions that she liked taking it easy in life, which had annoyed him endlessly at first. And after meeting her that second time, instead of making sure he never spent a moment of his life thinking about her anymore, he found himself dwelling on her more and more.

 

He was being stupid, and he was aware of it. He was starting to piss himself off. What the hell was wrong with him, anyway?

 

After some pondering on that, he arrived at the conclusion he was probably starting to make less and less sense because it had been a while since he’d last gotten laid.

 

So, in a fit of supposedly curing himself, he’d gone out clubbing with Taiga and Tetsu. Realistically, he was on the prowl for a distraction, and—being his handsome self—it didn’t take him long to find a girl who interested him and was equally interested in him as well.

 

Just as he was starting to think that he was finally relieved of this nonsensical fixation of his with a stranger, instead of seeing the face of his lay as he brought her to an orgasm, his drunken mind supplied him with an overly vivid mental image of how a certain pink-haired succubus would look in the same situation.

 

He did his best to ignore the fact that it had been a while since he’d come as hard as he did after “seeing” her there, writhing underneath him, creamy white legs spread widely for him, flawlessly pretty facial features contorted in ecstasy as he drove her over the edge with a scream. He really did his best to ignore it but it was virtually impossible when he ended up dreaming about her, too.

 

He was starting to believe that he had an unreasonable, entirely unhealthy obsession.

 

Imagine his shock when several days later, as he pulled over a vaguely familiar car, the familiar face staring back at him from the driver’s seat was anything but a mirage this time.

 

He blinked profusely back at her, clearing his throat as he composed himself.

 

“This is really starting to become a habit of yours, isn’t it?” he asked gruffly with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. Satsuki was entirely unaffected by his lacklustre reaction as she beamed at him.

 

“I’m beginning to wonder whether I really mind it becoming one or not,” she confessed flirtatiously, making Daiki roll his eyes in exasperation at her.

 

That’s when he noticed that she wasn’t the only occupant of the vehicle, for once.

 

His sapphire eyes widened slightly in surprise when he noticed the man in the passenger seat. The guy was lean, his hair a beautiful golden blond colour, the angles of his face sharp and aristocratic, his overall countenance rather regal thanks to the white uniform shirt he was wearing.

 

Dark brows descended over cerulean eyes briefly as Daiki recognized the outfit—a pilot, huh? It seemed fitting, that she’d go for a good-looking, quite well off financially guy.

 

“What did I do this time?” Satsuki’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts roughly. “I know for a fact that I wasn’t over the speed limit. I’ve learnt my lesson,” she told him with a charming smile.

 

The officer quirked a brow at her, a small smirk making it to his face.

 

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone betraying his lack of conviction in her words.

 

“Of course!” she scoffed, crossing her arms and lifting her chin higher haughtily. “I don’t know what kind of low opinion you have of me, but I’m not that slow of a person! I don’t need to be told off more than twice to get a point.”

 

At this, Daiki couldn’t help a small smirk before smothering it away.

 

“Well, good for you,” he said with slight condescension in his tone, but she thankfully didn’t notice it. He chuckled and shook his head while taking out the notepad from his back pocket. “Too bad that your passenger doesn’t seem to be as well-versed with traffic laws as you this time around.”

 

His listless statement drew Satsuki’s attention to her blond friend, who stared innocently back at her.

 

“What? I didn’t do anything!” he defended himself weakly, putting his hands up in a placating gesture.

 

That’s when Satsuki noticed it.

 

“Ryou-chan, why aren’t you buckled down?” she asked testily when she saw his seatbelt untouched by his side.

 

“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to put it back on after we stopped by the lockers to get my stuff,” Ryouta explained airily, giving both pairs of inquisitive eyes a wave with his hand. “My bad.”

 

Satsuki deadpanned at his explanation.

 

“Ryou-chan, seriously? And out of the two of us, you’re supposed to be the responsible one…” she said with a sigh of defeat. Ryouta laughed and apologized unrepentantly at her.

 

None of their theatrics really impressed Daiki, though, as he was writing the blond heartthrob a fine for his lapse of judgement. He did so with a certain degree of satisfaction, which had nothing to do with his desire to punish the blonde in some way or another, just for the simple fact of him being in this car right now.

 

He exchanged a few more words with the woman in the driving seat, ignoring the nonsensical elation that getting to converse with her again brought. He had to leave much too soon than he liked, but he had a post to get back to and he couldn’t leave Sakurai all on his own.

 

Just before he walked off, he paused, and turned partially to tell her one last thing over his shoulder.

 

“Oh, and, by the way—I’m sure that there are cheaper scenarios where you get to bat your pretty eyelashes at me than breaking the law and getting fined constantly. Just a thought,” he added teasingly as he left them behind to their own devices while he climbed back in the police car several paces away.

 

Both Satsuki and Ryouta followed him closely with their eyes, the girl finally turning to her friend once the cop was out of sight.

 

“That was him, right? The guy you’ve been telling me about?” he made sure before continuing. Satsuki nodded enthusiastically with an expectant look in her best friend’s direction.

 

Ryouta’s lips curled into a devilish smile as he hummed in approval. What Aomine hadn’t noticed after coming over to them was that he was the one even more closely studied throughout the entire exchange.

 

Then again, Ryouta didn’t really expect him to notice much else other than Sacchi with the way he could barely keep his eyes away from her. He chuckled mirthfully at the child-like impatience in his best friend’s eyes as she waited for his verdict.

 

“All right, let’s see: first of all, he isn’t gay,” he assured her, making her beam right at him in response. “He’s into women, and, I’m absolutely sure I’m not mistaken about this: he’s into you.” At the excited widening of her eyes, he elaborated, “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and, no, it’s not like your magic doesn’t work on him or doesn’t affect him at all—he’s just better at keeping it from showing on his face than you are.”

 

Satsuki blushed hotly at his statement, pushing Ryouta’s shoulder playfully. The young pilot laughed merrily at her antics.

 

“I’m pretty sure you can go ahead with a full-on attack,” the blonde told her with a wise nod. His pink haired driver looked uncertain at once.

 

“Ehh, I don’t know…” she mumbled evasively, her gaze wandering.

 

Ryouta clapped a large hand to her shoulder, a determined look on his face.

 

“Trust me on this, Sacchi. He said ‘your _pretty eyelashes_ ’ before he walked off, meaning he very much noticed what you were trying to do, and he’s not as indifferent to it as he’s making himself out to be.”

 

She still looked in doubt. So Ryouta sighed and sat back comfortably in his seat, buckling his seatbelt.

 

“Well, if you’re not making a move on him, I just might,” he told her in a sing-song tone. She threw him a look before elbowing him in the side. He chuckled at her unusually brutal reaction and rubbed his abused ribs.

 

“Hands off, Casanova,” she warned him with laughter bubbling in his tone. “Or I just might tell Yukkun what you just said.”

 

“Anything but that!” he pleaded comically, putting his clasped hands in front of himself. “Let’s not take a joke too far than absolutely necessary.”

 

“Good—as long as you know that I saw this one first,” Satsuki acquiesced, putting the key in the ignition.

 

When the engine roared to life she threw a last lingering look at the police car parked under the shade. A small smile curled the corners of her lips up before she noticed the mischievous look on Ryouta’s face. She’d known the guy long enough to recognize the scheming glint in his eyes.

 

A thought dawned on her.

 

“Did you take your seatbelt off when you saw their car? Just so we would get pulled over?” she inquired, looking incredulously at him.

 

The blonde’s sly smile grew as he rested his back more securely into his seat.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he denied with so much self-satisfaction in his voice—there was no mistaking his lying through his teeth.

 

Satsuki laughed and shook her head in disbelief while she started to drive off. After so many years of knowing him, Ryou-chan never failed to do things to surprise her even now.

 

* * *

 

The next day, at an hour way too early to be even funny, a familiar vehicle pulled over at the highway next to Aomine and Sakurai’s car.

 

Daiki blanched at the sight of it, and even more so when the driver vacated the vehicle with a flourish, wasting no time in locking up and waltzing over to them with what he could almost consider a dance step.

 

If asked, he would vehemently deny that the moment her head hovered next to his window, he inched as far away from her while still remaining in his seat as was physically possible.

 

He glowered at Satsuki while she crouched next to the car, peering way too perkily for the early hour into their car.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded testily, glaring daggers at her cheery expression.

 

“Good morning, officers!” she greeted happily, saluting the two. Sakurai gave her an acknowledging—if a little confused—nod in return, while Daiki remained as impassive as ever. Satsuki grinned and didn’t let that bother her. “It’s always a joy to see such hardworking men so early—makes for a great start of the day!”

 

Aomine’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at her.

 

“What’s your play?” he grouched in a distrusting tone. He still maintained as much distance between himself and the pink-haired girl as possible without having to actually move out of the car.

 

“Don’t put it in such a mean way,” she groaned dramatically, turning her face away from them. “When you say it like that, it almost sounds like I’m up to no good!”

 

“Aren’t you?” Daiki insisted imprudently, earning himself a scathing glare from the pink-eyed girl.

 

“Of course not!” she quipped. “I’m just here to offer a model citizen’s gratitude for your hard work, day after day!” she assured them, and Daiki knew immediately that she had some agenda. “I was also thinking of offering you these freshly made cups of coffee to help you maintain a clarity of mind despite the early hour.”

 

She lifted the two carton cups up for them to see, and the navy haired man couldn’t help swallowing dryly in yearning at the sight of the beverage. He’d always had difficulty waking up in the mornings, and coffee did great to help him with it. He hadn’t had much sleep the previous night—courtesy of haunting thoughts he’d harped on endlessly until the wee hours of the morning, eating out at his sleeping time. He’d nearly overslept and hadn’t had time to pass by a coffee shop on the way to Sakurai’s before their shift started.

 

So now that she was there, in the flesh, with a cup of coffee in her hands especially meant for him, he couldn’t help but feel like foregoing his wariness of her ulterior motives.

 

Just as he reached out to grab the carton out of her grasp, she moved it out of his reach with a smug grin.

 

“Ah-ah! Not so fast,” she chided complacently, a sly smirk stretching her lips. Daiki couldn’t contain the ill-tempered narrowing of his brows even if he wanted to. “I will give these to you, _if_ ,” she paused to let her next words sink in properly within their half-asleep minds, “you let me hop in the car and tag along with you guys for today.”

 

There it was—so soon, too. Her ulterior motive for going out of her way to spoil them.

 

Daiki threw a weary glance at Sakurai, who shyly kept his gaze locked with his partner’s before shrugging his defeat. The blue-eyed officer heaved a deep sigh before running his hand through his hair in exasperation. He was completely oblivious to the twinkle in the pair of pink eyes fixed upon him that his action brought about.

 

“Listen here, Momoi,” he started in a business-like tone. She couldn’t bring herself to mind much when she was too busy smothering her reactions at being made aware he still remembered her name.

 

(Granted, he had seen it on her driver’s license yesterday, but that was just beside the point! It still had her heart leap to hear him refer to her personally like that!)

 

“Are you under some kind of wrong impression about what we do here? I don’t know what kind of Hollywood movies you have in mind when you ask this, but it’s not like we have all that much action in here…” Daiki clarified warily, regarding her closely out of the corner of his eye.

 

“It doesn’t matter!” she told him with an air of finality. “I just want to see what your everyday life on the job looks like. Please?” she added as an afterthought with an askew grin. “You won’t even know I’m there,” she cajoled, lifting the coffee cup within Daiki’s reach again.

 

The navy-haired man stared her down for a full minute before turning his gaze to his partner, who shrugged once more.

 

“I don’t see why not,” Sakurai admitted pleasantly, making the grin on Satsuki’s face stretch.

 

His reply made Daiki heave a great sigh before grabbing the two coffee mugs from the woman next to his car door, and passing one of them to his partner. He kept the other one to himself while the woman triumphantly hopped into the backseat of their car.

 

“Fine,” he relented. His cerulean eyes shifted to the rear view mirror so he could throw her a glare through it. “But the moment that you start overstaying your welcome, I’m throwing you out. Got it?”

 

“Yes, sir!” Satsuki agreed cheerily with a mock salute.

 

Unable to grasp her ability to be so perky so early in the day, Daiki merely sighed deeply yet again, taking a large sip of his warm coffee.

 

Ah, now _that_ hit the spot.

 

* * *

 

“Daiki, huh?” she muses aloud, tapping a thoughtful index finger to her chin.

 

The man in question did his utmost to ignore the peculiar feeling the way his name rolled off her tongue begot in him.

 

“In that case, Dai-chan!” she announced exultant, her triumphant exclamation causing Daiki to choke on the last sip of his coffee.

 

He sputtered for a moment while she graced him with her most worried expression.

 

“Are you all right, Dai-chan? You shouldn’t take larger gulps than you can handle, you know,” she preached in an all-knowing tone. The navy-haired man whipped his head around to glower heatedly at her while brushing his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

“Knock it off with the ridiculous nicknames, woman!” He was entirely unfazed with her indignant pout in response to his outburst. “Don’t look at me like that, because it won’t change my mind!”

 

He huffed and got out of the car, slamming the door once he was out. His departure to go set up the radar speed gun left Satsuki glaring dryly at where he used to be in wake of his disappearance.

 

“He’s not really a morning person, is he?” she turned to ask his partner.

 

The auburn haired man stiffened at first, before her claim sank into his consciousness. He laughed when he realized the pin-point accuracy of it, and the woman’s astute observational skills.

 

“Not really, no,” he admitted with a coy smile. She crossed her hands over her chest, letting out a huffing exhale.

 

Sakurai watched her intently, beginning to somewhat understand what it was about her that had captivated Aomine-san so quickly and successfully.

 

* * *

 

The pen’s tip almost ripped up the paper from the pressure he was applying to the writing utensil as it scratched the surface. He turned his head slowly to award the woman annoying him with her chitter-chatter, sitting behind him in his car.

 

There was only an hour left to his shift’s end, and yet he felt as though he had spent a lifetime in her presence today. Frankly, he couldn’t wait to get away from her and all her ridiculous, _humiliating_ monikers for him.

 

He’d never had people dubbing him with aliases, and he didn’t care to start _now_.

 

And, worst of all, that was the _least_ of her affronts to him today…!

 

“I thought you were going to act as though you weren’t even here?” he reminded her through gritted teeth. His rage seeped into his fingers, making them grip tightly at the pen in his hand. He was throwing her his most searing inquisitive look.

 

Satsuki tilted her head sideways, appearing nonplussed at his inquiry. He ignored the way the motion made her hair swish down her shoulders, emphasizing the beauty of her long tresses.

 

“What are you talking about? Are you still sleep-talking, Dai-chan?” she asked innocently, her feigned confusion cracking when Daiki’s right eye started twitching in aggravation.

 

“ _The hell did you just say_?!” the man in the front seat seethed through tightly clenched teeth. His fingers were twitching with the barely contained urge to lash out and grab at her fancy shirt, possibly shake her hard and rough until her brain rattled in her skull.

 

In focusing on that thought, it became easier for him to ignore the other ways his twisted mind came up with for punishing her—also including sudden movements and roughness on his part.

 

She immediately backed up at the outraged look in his eyes. She put her hands palms-up to him in a giving up manner.

 

“Oops, sorry! I guess I took the joke a bit too far!” she apologized in a hurry, hoping it would be enough to calm him down.

 

It did, for the time being—at least the homicidal glint in his eye was gone.

 

She sighed heavily while she studied his tense profile.

 

“But, seriously, Dai-chan, you need to loosen up a little. You’re always so uptight!” she chided him, crossing her arms. “And you can’t even take an innocent joke.”

 

“Innocent?” Daiki echoed, outraged. “There is _nothing_ innocent about you, you scheming, flirty female!” he spat, getting out of the car to stop a vehicle moving at a much higher speed than was permitted in this area.

 

In doing so, he left an indignantly gaping Satsuki behind as she called after him to demand an explanation for his rude name calling. She fumed, her finely filed nails digging into the cushiony material of the car seat.

 

When she turned to Sakurai, the auburn haired officer felt cold sweat breaking out on his forehead from the force of her stare.

 

“Don’t you agree, Sakurai-san?!” she snapped angrily, making the man face fault.

 

“I-I’m sorry!” he squeaked out on habit. “Agree with what?”

 

“Like. I. Said!” she paused after each word, punctuating her thought for emphasis. “Isn’t he always just so uptight? It’s impossible to joke around with him at all! No fun at all!” she ranted on, pushing back until she was resting her back securely against her seat. “Unless he’s the one teasing, he has no sense of humour! What’s wrong with him?! Am I right?”

 

Sakurai jolted when her probing magenta gaze fixed itself upon him expectantly, awaiting his affirmation of her claim.

 

“I’m sorry!” the man apologized again, bowing to her even in the uncomfortable confines if the car. “I’m so sorry that he’s been troubling you! I apologize on his account! I’m so sorry!”

 

He continued bowing vehemently until Satsuki started worrying for the well-being of his head which came closer and closer to hitting his forehead on the stick shift with each subsequent bow.

 

“You don’t need to apologize!” she insisted worriedly, waving him off. “It’s not that big a deal! I was the one who imposed on you guys anyway, so—”

 

“I’m really, really sorry!” the officer continued, making her face twist in disdain. She was at a complete loss how to deal with this man without Daiki around to whack him behind the head when he went into one of his apologizing fits. “I’m also sorry for disagreeing with your statement!”

 

She blinked a few times, baffled, at his words.

 

“Huh?” she mumbled smartly, a dumbfounded expression covering her face. Did he really just… oppose something she said? Quite openly, too?

 

“Even though it might seem to you that he’s being very disagreeable, today is the first day that I’ve seen Aomine-san this animated. He looks standoffish and sounds a bit brutally honest at times, but he’s not a bad guy underneath that.”

 

Satsuki batted her eyes at him. She still looked very abashed—still at as much of a loss as to how to respond.

 

“Usually, Aomine-san doesn’t talk much while we’re on duty. He has this haunted look on his face as he does the work obediently, even though he doesn’t really feel like dealing with it at all. But he hangs in there like a trooper and continues on, day after day, hoping that some day his hard work and talent will be noticed.”

 

Sakurai’s voice was shrinking throughout his tirade. By the end of it, he had mostly shrivelled up in his self-conscious shell.

 

“What are you talking about?” Satsuki queried, oblivious to the soft-spoken policeman’s plight at lengthy social interaction. “What do you mean, ‘he doesn’t really feel like dealing with it’? Don’t people usually choose jobs they enjoy doing?”

 

“I’m sorry!” Sakurai squeaked out, making the pink-haired woman’s brows scrunch up. “I spoke as though you could know something you couldn’t possibly have a previous account of! I’m sorry!”

 

She sighed dramatically as she observed the overly polite man bowing to her yet again.

 

“You don’t really need to make such a fuss every time,” she told him reproachfully, a heavy exhale on her lips again. “So? What did you mean earlier?” she insisted once the dark-eyed male calmed down from.

 

“Oh, yes, I’m s—”

 

“If you say sorry again, I’m going to hurt you,” she threatened, a menacing gleam in her eye as she did.

 

“Y-yes, madam!” Sakurai exclaimed, swallowing harshly at the murderous expression on her face. “W-what I was saying earlier,” he stammered on, apparently exerting a lot of conscious effort to keep himself from apologizing profusely to her before continuing. “Aomine-san didn’t really want to become part of this bureau of the police force. So he has always been kind of… brooding, when it came to doing this job.”

 

Satsuki tilted her head sideways in curiosity. Once Sakurai felt the alleviation of her homicidal look on him, he proceeded a bit more smoothly.

 

“When he enrolled in the police academy, he always did his best and hoped he would be appointed to the criminal investigation bureau. But, in the end, they assigned him to traffic. So he hasn’t exactly had the time of his life on this job.” Sakurai’s gaze shifted over to the side mirror, pinning to Daiki’s form as he stood next to the car he had pulled over.

 

He was calmly conversing with the driver, a listless expression on his face.

 

Ryou smiled while looking at him.

 

“Aomine-san, you see—his temper usually gets the better of him, and he reacts quickly and violently to things. He always storms off until he has calmed down. He keeps his thoughts and worries to himself, and I think he doesn’t like to share them with others in any way because he doesn’t like burdening them with his troubles. He’s not very honest about his feelings either, so he comes off as a mean person. But he isn’t really. And, I personally, think that the Aomine-san who enjoys getting in verbal scuffles with Momoi-san over each and every little thing is a lot better than the broody, constantly bottling up his feelings version of his self that he usually shows.”

 

Satsuki blinked in utter astonishment at Sakurai’s lengthy narrative. Once he realized how much—and, possibly, what exactly—he had said, the man blushed a shade of ripe tomato, sinking into the passenger seat in hopes of disappearing completely.

 

The woman gave him a thoughtful hum as she regarded him, mulling his words over in her mind.

 

“Hmm, is that so?” she muttered rhetorically, stealing a glance at the navy-haired cop out of the side view mirror. He was saying something to the driver, nodding his head. Her lips curled into a smile. “He’s a pretty lucky guy, having a partner to stand up for him like you,” she commented off-handily, making Sakurai sputter and shake his head vigorously in denial. “You guys must be pretty close, right?”

 

“I-I-I’m sorry! That’s not true! I didn’t mean to lead you on! I’m very sorry!”

 

Satsuki’s brows rose in surprise.

 

“You’re not?”

 

“We’re not!” Sakurai insisted, his voice trembling in nervousness. “Most of those are just my own theories! We’re not really all that close! Aomine-san is a rather private person, and I don’t really deserve to be among his closest friends, so—”

 

“What are you saying?” Satsuki interrupted him with a kind smile. “You spend every day side by side, for hours on end, like this. If something were to happen, he’d be relying on you to have his back. You already care enough to know so much about him just from observations alone. I think you’re already great friends!”

 

The auburn-haired cop blinked profusely at her, his voice caught in his throat. When he regained control of his jaw, he clamped it shut and turned his face away from Satsuki. His gaze pinned to his hands clasped in his lap, fingers fidgeting.

 

He had to agree with Aomine that the woman probably had a very wrong idea about what their job entailed—she was imagining scenarios that were impossible to come to pass.

 

Yet he couldn’t help the small grin that spread on his face at her words.

 

The car depressed slightly when a certain blue-haired man’s weight was added to it. Daiki sat down, removing his cap with a sigh as he made himself more comfortable in the driver’s seat.

 

He only had a moment’s rest before Satsuki latched onto the back of his chair, her mouth next to his ear. He angled himself away from her as covertly as he could, masking her catching him off-guard with the way her breath tickled his sensitive earlobe, with annoyance at her closeness.

 

“Hey, hey, Dai-chan! Could it be that you’re actually a tsundere? Making yourself seem all rough and tough, but you’re actually hiding your softie side from the world?” she asked in mock-innocence without any preamble.

 

Her query made a vein of agitation pulse on his forehead at once.

 

“Who are you calling a tsundere, you ridiculous woman?!” the blue-eyed man bit back harshly. If looks could kill, his would be positively lethal.

 

Instead of taking the hint, the woman simply laughed at his reaction.

 

“Did I hit the mark? Hey, is it possible that you bristle because I got it right? That’s actually kind of cute, Dai-chan,” she admitted with a sly grin in his general direction.

 

Daiki felt the very hairs on the back of his head stand on end in response to her teasing tone and ludicrous expression.

 

“How many times must I tell you to _knock it off_ with the ridiculous nicknames, you annoying creature?!” he all but hollered at her.

 

She didn’t let his hostile tone faze her, beginning to realize that riling him up was actually kind of fun.

 

“At least once more, _Dai-chan_ ,” she said in a saccharine tone, adding a wink for good taste.

 

Daiki heaved a great sigh that made his shoulders sag and his back hit the backrest of his seat. He slapped the palm of his hand to his forehead with a dejected shake of his head—a gesture of his defeat in the face of this woman’s relentless idiocy.

 

Dealing with this woman was such a handful he was starting to wonder what was wrong with him to have been so infatuated with her in the first place.

 

* * *

 

At the end of the day, Daiki realized he had never been gladder for his shift to end. He’d never been much of a fan of the post, but having to deal with a chattering, bubbly woman on his backseat for hours on end—without having the freedom to even look at her openly without fear of her somehow using that against him—had pretty much drained him of his will to live.

 

“Thank you so much for an amusing day today, gentlemen!” she told them cheerily, giving them another little salute as she vacated their car. Daiki felt a vein on his forehead throb with annoyance in response. “Thank you for your company and patience. See you again soon!”

 

Her merry greeting made a feeling of dread settle in his gut uncomfortably.

 

“Don’t come anymore!” he called after her. “You hear?”

 

He’d had enough trouble dealing with her for one day today. He didn’t need to have her hang around them any further—it would rob him of his very last ounce of strength.

 

When she didn’t reply to his claim and only waved her hand at him with a ringing laugh, the dreadful feeling intensified.

 

She wouldn’t dare, would she?

 

* * *

 

When Satsuki’s car pulled over to the side of the patrol car around noon the next day, Daiki became certain of one thing: there was no God in heaven, or if there was – he was a cruel, _cruel_ being who relished in Daiki’s misery.

 

The pink-haired woman climbed into their car with a heartfelt call, bringing inside two plastic boxes and a bottle of juice with her.

 

The navy-haired policeman regarded her with deadpan chagrin before burying his face in his hand in dejection.

 

He thought it didn’t get any worse than this.

 

He found out later that yes, _yes it did_. Upon opening the lunchbox she had prepared for them— _handmade,_ she’d said—and seeing the unspeakable taste of its contents.

 

* * *

 

Sapphire orbs followed her warily as she put the boxes, the empty bottle and the plastic mugs onto the backseat of her car. Aomine sighed, crossing his arms over his broad chest, and pushed away from the side of her car he had been leaning against.

 

“I’m not really used to saying things like this, so I’m just going to say this once,” he began uneasily, waiting for her to turn her curious gaze at him before continuing. “ _Please_ stop stalking me.”

 

She let out a long, incredulous sound of protest. It made him sigh deeply before putting his face in his hand again.

 

“It’s becoming a serious hindrance, so don’t show up to our shifts anymore,” he told her evenly without meeting her gaze. “I know I was the one who said there were cheaper ways of getting to have a conversation than getting fined all the time, but stalking my partner and me and extorting your way into our patrol car was not what I had in mind.”

 

His tone was worn. It made any trace of mirth leave Satsuki’s face as her eyes pinned to her feet in genuine remorse.

 

“So I was a bother,” she said slowly, her voice heavy. “It… wasn’t my intention…”

 

Daiki exhaled deeply again, fishing for something in his pocket. He extended his hand with the object to her.

 

It took the pink-haired woman a moment to realize that he was giving her his phone.

 

She looked up to his face, perplexed. He avoided her gaze masterfully, but elaborated regardless.

 

“Write down your number,” he all but demanded (and it was possible that it was just her imagination but she could almost swear there was a certain pinkness to the dark complexion of his face in that moment). “I’ll call you so we can figure out a place where we can meet like normal people do.”

 

Satsuki blinked a few times at him still, her mind taking its sweet time wrapping itself around what exactly it was he was saying. When she finally did, a foxy grin spread on her lips as she took the proffered device from his grasp.

 

Daiki pretended to be ignorant of the tightening of the knot in his gut when her soft skin brushed evanescently against his hand.

 

“Meaning, if I agree to it, I won’t get to enjoy the sight of you in your police uniform? Such a shame—especially when it flatters you so,” she tittered to herself as her fingers flew across the touchscreen of his phone, typing in her contact details.

 

This time she was sure she wasn’t imagining the flush on his handsome face.

 

“I’m starting to think I just made a really big mistake there will be no going back from,” he confessed morosely, making her giggle.

 

“I’d like to believe you’re wrong,” she parried with a small smirk. “I’m sure I’ll be able to make it worth your time.”

 

She handed him back his phone, the challenge in her eyes clearer than a cloudless day.

 

Never one to back down when faced with a challenge, Daiki smirked right back at her. He took his cell from her, purposefully brushing his fingers against hers, savouring the expression on her face as he did so.

 

“There’s only one way to find out, then.”

 

* * *

 

Truthfully, after they’d decided on a time and place for their ‘meeting’, Satsuki had been a bit worried when she realized that she’d never seen him in anything other than his police uniform.

 

She’d poked some fun at him about it the last time they had spoken, but only when their reunion was finally imminent did she truly grasp how mortifying it would be if he had a really bad fashion sense.

 

Especially when she’d gone to great lengths to ascertain that she would look elegantly daring with her choice of dress for the evening. It would be bad enough even if he went for casual, but any sort of eccentricity or honest-to-god poor taste would be absolutely catastrophic.

 

She didn’t even dare think of how severely mismatched they would be standing next to each other should that be the case. They were already mismatched enough just based on their height and complexion differences; anything else would make them stand out in a very unbecoming manner.

 

Satsuki was just starting to imagine petrifying scenarios by the time she was rounding the corner to their meeting spot. Unimaginable was her surprise when she spotted him already there, hands in his pockets, head turned skyward as he waited.

 

She was approaching him from the side, and it allowed her to take a good view at his attire—the reason for her recent dread of their meeting. But when her eyes scanned over his form—briefly widening in surprise—she realized with elation that she had worried for naught.

 

His casual clothes were a rather tasteful choice, flattering his form and peculiar skin tone perfectly. His leather jacket on top and the nonchalance of his posture as he waited for her—oblivious to her gaze—made a shiver of anticipation run down her spine.

 

She picked up the pace of her strides as she came closer.

 

The click of her heels drew his attention when she was just a few steps away from him. He turned his head towards the source of the noise, and in a moment, her gaze locked with his.

 

“About time you showed up,” he drawled lazily, turning on his heel to fully face her. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten the time or meeting place.”

 

Satsuki smiled prettily, coming to a stop just a pace away from him.

 

“What are you talking about? It’s only been fifteen minutes since our agreed meeting time,” she corrected him patiently, as though explaining something to a small kid. “A lady needs to be tastefully late to be fashionable nowadays,” she told him haughtily, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist.

 

That’s when he smirked at her—hands still jammed in his leather jacket’s pockets, posture just slightly slouched as he allowed his gaze to linger on her body, probing, _intense_ —and her breath was temporarily stolen from her.

 

“Ah, I see. And here I was worrying that you wouldn’t feel up for it if I took away the thrill you got from stalking me while I’m working.” His smirk morphed into an impish grin as he turned and started walking. “Guess I was wrong.”

 

Satsuki stood there, stunned in place for a heartbeat, then two. It took her mind a moment to reboot from having been caught off-guard by how dashing he looked right at that moment, smirking down at her.

 

She willed her pulse to slow as she jogged up to match his stride.

 

“I hope the uniform isn’t the only thing you left behind, officer Aomine,” she started jokingly with an alluring upward curve of her lip. “It would be a shame if you took off the police clothes but kept the stiff attitude – it would practically be a lose-lose situation for me.”

 

Daiki let out a bark of a laugh that made Satsuki miss a step involuntarily in surprise. She stabilized herself before he could notice her lapse.

 

“Don’t you worry yourself the slightest, Satsuki,” he told her in a low tone, full of promise. His eyes shone in a way that made a flock of butterflies flutter in flight within her stomach. The manner in which he had uttered her name caused a shiver to rake her spine. “I’ll be at my best, most social behaviour tonight, as per your request.”

 

He came to an abrupt stop, making her collide into his back. She didn’t even have time to demand what he was doing because in the next moment his face hovered within her line of sight, that tempting smirk securely in place.

 

“Here’s to hoping you don’t end up regretting it when the tables turn on you, hmm?” His breath was a soft murmur against her lips, his mouth just a hair’s breadth away from her own.

 

Her jaw opened but no sound came out. Before she could manage a retort, her tall date grinned down at her and proceeded to lead her away in direction of the establishment they were heading to.

 

Satsuki swallowed thickly. A wide smile spread on her face as she caught up with his quick strides.

 

“On the contrary—I look forward to seeing that happen,” she informed him coolly, her expression conveying fully that she was prepared to face him head on with anything he dished out at her.

 

Daiki smirked back at her. Now this was something he could very much get used to.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not an easy man to impress, eh? Oh, if only she knew how wrong she was in that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn’t have used a song in a fanfic, unless it was absolutely necessary. When you get to that part, I strongly recommend you [hear it out](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpOSxM0rNPM), and [check out the lyrics](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/arcticmonkeys/doiwannaknow.html) too. I dare you to tell me it’s not flawlessly fitting for these two. I dare you!

The establishment they went to was a rather classy restaurant.

 

She had dined in there only once or twice, when Ryou-chan had felt like treating her to something lavishly expensive so that they’d celebrate some occasion or another.

 

She believed that Daiki’s choice of a dinner joint was excellent—as far as impressing her went, she most certainly was awed. Not only by the fact he was familiar with the kind of place this was, but also for his impeccable table manners once they were led to their table.

 

It was also a great place to hold a decent conversation, since the music was pleasant and just the perfect volume not to be obtrusive to a conversation led in normal tones.

 

“Colour me surprised, officer,” she said once they were brought to their table, a waiter helping her gentlemanly to her seat. “After all your complaining about me, I wouldn’t have thought you’d care enough to bring me to such a classy place!”

 

Daiki’s smirk then was so ravishing that if she were a lesser woman, she may have swooned.

 

“Be that as it may, it’s not every day that I get me stalkers. So it seemed like an occasion worthy of some sort of more formal celebration and such.”

 

Satsuki rolled her eyes, her perfectly applied eyeliner and eye-shadow only making her gaze even more fetching than it usually was.

 

“Oh, please, you exaggerate this so much! The first two times were pure coincidence! Come off it, already!”

 

“The coffee stunt was a huge overkill, and you know it too.” He mentally counted a small victory for himself when she averted her eyes guiltily from his gaze first, unable to keep the contact in face of the truth of the matter.

 

“Well, what can I say—you’re not an easy man to impress, officer, so the only one you can really blame is yourself,” she told him huffily, but there was a barely suppressed smile in her voice.

 

Any chance he may have had of rebutting her statement was severed when she busied herself with the menu, demonstratively putting it up between him and her line of sight.

 

That worked to Daiki’s convenience, really, because she didn’t see the smile her comment induced in him.

 

Not an easy man to impress, eh? Oh, if only she knew how wrong she was in that!

 

But, truth be told, he was very, _very_ glad unimpressionable is how he had come across to her – if she knew just how much she affected him and in what ways, he was absolutely sure a woman like her would lord it over him.

 

And it would be a cold, cold day in Hell before Aomine Daiki was put at the mercy of any woman, regardless how delectable and mind-bogglingly amazing she was.

 

* * *

 

The first step Daiki took to making this whole set up a bit less unnerving for him was to ask her about who she was and what she did for a living.

 

After all, his only observations about her were that she had a penchant for breaking the traffic law and that she had an almost unhealthy fascination with people who piqued her interest.

 

He thought that even to an average civilian, that kind of characteristic would be disconcerting.

 

When he shared the thought with Satsuki, she burst out in a fit of giggles she seemed to have difficulty overcoming.

 

He watched on in almost child-like fascination as she attempted to compose herself again, only to end up laughing some more.

 

“I-I’m sorry about that,” she said at length, once she got the mirthful spell under control. “I-it’s just that, when you put it like that, it really seems like I’m some kind of criminal.”

 

She pressed the napkin daintily to her lips, before elaborating shortly.

 

“I’m a data analyst.”

 

“Data… analyst?” Daiki echoed, his puzzlement seeping into the sentence. Satsuki smiled coyly back at him in response.

 

“Yes. I specialize in collecting, structuring and making predictions based on data I am appointed to work with.”

 

From the way she said it, Daiki figured that it was probably expected of him to understand the nature of her work from just that. Simply from what she had labelled it, he had absolutely no clue what she was supposed to be doing, although he knew the meaning of all the words she had used to explain it to him.

 

Still, it all seemed like a world much too complicated and out of his element.

 

He made a thoughtful sound as he watched her take a small, ladylike sip from her wine—her appearance the vision of elegance itself. That very notion caused his lips to curl into a small smirk.

 

“I don’t really get it, but it sounds like work related with some serious mental effort,” he confessed earnestly. His words made Satsuki look up from the dish with the appetizers that were brought to their table by the waiter.

 

“Ah, well, yes, I guess you can say that,” she said conversationally while taking a bite from the delicious-looking food.

 

She didn’t fail to notice the thoughtful hum her response elicited from her companion, though. She sent a lopsided grin his way, hoping it relayed her confusion well enough.

 

“Is it weird for me to have such an unusual job?” she ventured a wild guess.

 

“Eh? Nah, I don’t think unusual is bad or weird in any way,” Daiki said, while popping a bite of the appetizers in his mouth as well. Satsuki waited patiently until he swallowed before he could continue. “I was just pretty sure that you did some kind of work that had to do with your looks, so I was surprised when you said that’s not the case.”

 

The pink-haired woman’s hand froze on its way to her mouth. She set her wrist with the fork on the table, fixing Daiki with a level stare.

 

“What do you mean?” she decided to prompt before she could make any wrong assumptions that could lead to misunderstandings.

 

“Well, when I asked, I was certain you’d say something like a model for some company, or a stewardess, or something—an occupation in which looks would be a deciding factor.”

 

At this, Satsuki barely managed to suppress the annoyed tic in her eye.

 

“So basically, you are telling me that I came across as a shallow woman, whose only worth lay in the way she looks?”

 

Only after the question was out of her mouth and the iciness in her tone tangible, did Daiki realize he’d made a rather serious social faux pas.

 

He cleared his throat to keep himself from figuratively scurrying to amend his blunder, because when he did so usually, he ended up making a bigger mess than he already was in.

 

And, truthfully, he didn’t want to have this woman disappointed in him so early on.

 

Especially when the way she had taken his words was not at all how he had intended them.

 

“Not at all. It was more the fact that you were always bustling with confidence and so flamboyant—a trait shared mostly by girls who are frequently told how great they look and feel empowered by the influence they know they have over others.”

 

When she stared him down with a rather unreadable look on her features, Daiki realized that she was probably pretty good at whatever it was that she did as a data analyst. Not a single emotion was betrayed on her face for the space of several seconds—very, very long and excruciating seconds—of complete silence between them.

 

Only once she had estimated that he was honest and not just attempting to butter her up, did she relent and allow herself to sink back into her previous pleasant ambience.

 

“You sure are suave in getting yourself out of the troubles you get yourself into by speaking your mind too openly, huh?” she said coyly, a knowing smirk playing on her features as she scrutinized him.

 

Having her back to her normal, jolly and somewhat mischievous self, made Daiki realize how truly fearsome this woman could be. She could seriously go from playful to dead-serious in two seconds flat. And that steely look in her gaze—boy, that look could bring a lesser man to tears, probably.

 

Good thing Daiki wasn’t a lesser man.

 

He smirked back at her in response.

 

“What can I say? Unlike some people, careful thinking and consideration of every detail isn’t really my strong suit. I’m more a man of action.”

 

He would only admit under threat of torture that something in him breathed a very deep sigh of relief when his companion let out a ringing laugh at his last statement.

 

Because, truly, the very last thing he wanted to do was to upset her or to end up insulting her in some way. Doing so would directly contradict with his intentions of getting to spend more time in her company, getting to know her better so he could either get her out of his system, or perhaps manage to make room for himself in hers.

 

“All right, then, officer. In that case, I shall take your earlier remark as a compliment to my appearance. And as such, I will thank you for it,” she said with a little bow of her head. Her unusual formality made him give her a tiny chuckle.

 

“My mother used to tell me I ought to learn how to pay proper compliments, but I guess I was never a good student when it came to that,” he told her with a shrug, making Satsuki smile charmingly at him.

 

“Clumsy as you may be with them, I will take what you can offer. Especially considering that I spent a lot of effort of getting where I am today.” At this statement of hers, he cocked a curious brow over the wine he sipped.

 

“Oh?”

 

She looked up at him, through her accentuated by her mascara eyelashes.

 

“Well, yes, surely you don’t think looking like this comes on its own?” She tittered to herself as if it was some great joke. He gave her a lopsided smirk.

 

“There must be a great amount of it that depends on what you already have to work with, though,” he tried to amend, only to be caught a bit by surprise by the way she shook her head.

 

“Not really, no.” She smiled coyly, dabbing her lips with her napkin. “Regardless of all the movements for equality and such, Aomine-san, the world is still very much patriarchal, or at least struggling to cling to those values of the times past. Women are expected to be the weaker sex, cowering behind the husbands they are expected to find early on, and for whom they need to spend all their time and effort in looking after, as they create a family.”

 

The way his brow rose further made Satsuki aware that he had no clue where she was coming from or where she was going with this. She smiled ambiguously to herself as she continued.

 

“What I mean to say, dearest officer,” she leaned forward against the table on her propped up elbows, placing her chin upon her clasped hands; “is that people expect men to be the hard workers, the ambitious ones, the leaders. While women are expected to be the pretty ones, the mediators, the supporters. If a woman should refuse to look after herself and be presentable by male standards, she is not taken seriously. If she _does_ look after herself, she is not taken seriously either. It’s a moot point.”

 

He opened his mouth to say something but when he realized he couldn’t think of anything that would sound convincing, he closed it again. Satsuki smiled in that knowing way of hers again as she watched him.

 

“I see you realize that it was exactly that same belief that had you say what you did earlier.”

 

“Sorry,” he muttered, turning his gaze away from her. But then she laughed in that elating way and his guilt melted away.

 

“That’s okay, I’m not blaming you. For all I know, if our positions were reversed, I may have been under the same prejudice.” Her smile was so brilliant it was starting to make his face feel warm. “But the way I look is actually my rebellion against the constraints society wants to put on women.”

 

He didn’t get it. Her smile grew as she watched his face paint in nonplus.

 

“I’m trying to prove that it’s very possible to be both smart and pretty.”

 

“So modest tonight, are we?” he couldn’t help commenting with a small smirk. She reciprocated the expression perfectly.

 

“What can I say? I’m a girl who knows her worth,” she told him in an almost sing-song voice whilst taking a sip from her wine.  

 

But, truth be told, Daiki was a little surprised. He hadn’t really given her that much thought, and even if he had, he doubted he would’ve realized that she was actually taking a stand with the way she was. She had asked him if he had thought her shallow and he never had, but he hadn’t thought her to be all that deep either. He hadn’t cared enough, he hadn’t known her enough.

 

And now that she had imparted this opinion of hers on him, he found himself all the more fascinated with her. So that pilot hadn’t been her colleague. She didn’t make her money by simply standing somewhere, being pretty all day. She actually worked hard for the food she put on her table.

 

The fact she had an opinion and stood firmly behind it made her all the more interesting a person. Instead of being able to flush her out of his system with this, he was starting to fear that instead he’d only get himself in deeper trouble.

 

But as he watched her elegantly tucking a strand of her exquisite pink hair behind her ear, he seriously couldn’t be bothered to care that he was intentionally walking into her traps.

 

He made a thoughtful hum again, as he leaned against his palm on the table as well.

 

“And here I thought you’d say something like ‘modesty is a quality for people with no other qualities’ or some such.”

 

When she laughed earnestly at his statement, he couldn’t help the small grin that dawned on his face. He would never tire of getting to hear that sound, he already knew.

 

“I’m starting to think that you have a _really_ low opinion of me, officer Aomine,” she said jokingly, her eyes sparkling with mirth this time. He shook his head in response.

 

“I assure you, there is no such thing, miss.”

 

“All right, enough about me, then! Let’s talk about you, and give you a chance to get mocked, for a change.”

 

He laughed.

 

“Already on the offensive, I see.”

 

“You only have yourself to thank,” she told him edifyingly, and he couldn’t help another chuckle while shaking his head. “So, do tell—how did you decide that keeping the roads of Tokyo safe was the way for you to go?”

 

He gave a long sigh, easing himself back against the backrest of his chair behind him.

 

“I think you need to have at least two more glasses of wine in your bloodstream before you can unlock achievement ‘my tragic sob-story’,” he told her suavely, and when she laughed it was like music to his ears. “But, since you already asked, I’ll admit it: I didn’t decide on it.”

 

She tilted her pretty head to the side in puzzlement, wondering how he meant that.

 

“I didn’t become a cop to be put in traffic police but, oh well. Not like I had a say in it, so I do what they tell me to.” He lifted his glass in a mock of a toast, the sardonic expression on his face giving away every ounce of bitterness he felt over the topic. “Cheers to that.”

 

She gave him an unconvinced, crooked smile and refused to drink to his self-admonishing cause.

 

“If you didn’t dream of keeping drunk drivers from making a mess of the streets, why did you join the force, then?” Ah, yes. Now that they had started the topic, she distinctly remembered his partner Sakurai mentioning something about Daiki not wanting to be assigned to traffic.

 

Something about criminal investigation or the like? Whatever it was, she decided it would be wiser to let him do the talking, instead of having her guessing from what she remembered of her conversation with Sakurai.

 

(Plus, what they had done was essentially gossip, and from what little she knew about Aomine, she was quite certain that he wasn’t the kind of guy who enjoyed gossip in any form. Most certainly not when it was about him, too.)

 

His expression became wistful as he regarded her last question.

 

“Stopping traffic offenders on the road isn’t really something anyone would dream of, isn’t it?”

 

Satsuki smiled prettily, leaning forward and closer towards him across the table as her curiosity mounted.

 

“What do guys dream of, then? Taking off in high speed pursuits or running through the streets after an armed criminal?” she ventured a wild guess, savouring the expression that came over his face as she spoke.

 

“Yeah, that. A Sherlock Holmes kind of detective work is also pretty cool.”

 

Her brows quirked in intrigue.

 

“Oh? You wanted to be a detective? Really? No cuffs, no chase, no law enforcement? How come?”

 

The wolfish grin he sent her made her feel a distinct tug in her belly.

 

“Why not? Chicks dig it, right?”

 

She couldn’t help laughing at his response. The smile that settled on his face stayed.

 

“Endangering your safety just for the sake of chasing skirts—now that’s what I call extreme, good officer.”

 

They spent a moment in silence as she started cutting into the main dish that was brought to her by their accommodating waiter, who made sure to be as inconspicuous as humanly possible whenever he came and went from their table. Satsuki couldn’t help but notice that this was definitely a place that was worth every last bill you paid for it—not only did it have class, but it also considered the client’s need first and foremost.

 

It was almost a shame she couldn’t come here more often.

 

“It didn’t really matter if it was being a detective, or an Inspector, or something like that,” he admitted at length from behind his wine glass as he stared forlornly into it. “As long as it was something that made a difference. Something that _mattered_.”

 

“And keeping an eye on the roads to and from Tokyo doesn’t?” she supposed, making him huff angrily.

 

“ _Please_ ,” he spat out, rolling his eyes. His displeasure with the current situation became all the more evident from the way his body recoiled at the notion.

 

Instead of refuting him or even trying to, Satsuki simply smiled in that soft, placating way of hers as she ate her dinner calmly.

 

“Worth, just like beauty, I think, is in the eyes of the beholder. If you wish, you can find worth in anything—as long as you want to.” Her eyes crinkled and she tilted her head to the side a bit. “But I don’t really know you well enough to be giving you life advice, now do I?” she asked jokingly, putting a small piece of steak in her mouth.

 

Daiki smirked at her from his vantage point across the table.

 

“I suppose not,” he acquiesced, digging into his dinner as well.

 

Satsuki gave him a chance to enjoy his meal at peace before she picked up a lighter conversation topic for them to consider during dinner.

 

Like the fact she had been worried she’d be overdressed or underdressed depending on where he’d chosen to take her.

 

When she got to the part of telling him how she hadn’t the faintest idea of table manners and if she should put her knife and fork together in the plate, or on the opposite sides of each other so she could know the high class staff her that she had enjoyed immensely the food they served, Daiki couldn’t stop himself from cackling until he almost choked.

 

Seriously, this woman. She was something else.

 

* * *

 

They ended up spending a lot more time at the restaurant than he would’ve accounted for. Another thing he didn’t expect was how easy it was to talk to her about anything and everything.

 

Contrary to what he would’ve expected, considering her rather happy-go-lucky disposition otherwise—and her penchant for trying to do things the easy way in life (as her attempt to flirt her way out of the first fine had given him the impression)—she seemed to have a dislike for small talk. Like him, she preferred to talk about things that mattered, things that made a difference one way or another to people.

 

But she knew nothing about him to begin with, so they spent a lot of time covering basics. Like family, hometown, growing up and all those other tentative topics that could be as pleasant as they could be the trigger for a traumatic memory as well.

 

Thankfully, they both came from wholesome homes. They were both only children to their parents. Their backgrounds were very similar, even if they grew up on completely different parts of town.

 

And even though they had barely paused during dinner, he wasn’t nearly ready to let her go home by the time they left the restaurant. It had been a truly long time since he had last enjoyed someone else’s company as much.

 

The fact that she flirted with him just as shamelessly as he did with her served to further fuel his exhilaration. Her playful smiles and winks, and the nonchalant touches she brushed against his arm, the light blush that dusted her cheeks whenever he leaned in to say something to her or when she asked him to come closer—it spoke to him volumes about the fact that he wasn’t the only one affected by the force of the attraction between them.

 

What a relief that was, after days after days of being haunted by thoughts of her and nonsensical daydreams of what she was probably really like.

 

Now he had a clue who she was, and instead of being put off in any sense, he was even more curious than ever before to know even more about her.

 

But no matter how great his desire to continue the evening was, the blatant truth was that she got drunk on the wine, and the way her words slurred and her ringing laugh echoed more often between them as they trudged on in direction of her apartment became more and more impossible to downplay. He needed to let her rest, sleep the inebriation off—no matter how amusing he found her cute giggling, or how he couldn’t get enough of adorably drunken rambling.

 

She talked a lot even when she hadn’t had anything to drink, but after the wine it had become next to impossible to stop her from going off on the most ridiculous tangents no matter what he brought up. What was even more amusing to him was the fact she seemed very aware of the fact she was like that when she got tipsy, and she constantly sneaked in self-chiding comments about her own inability to rein in her endless chatter.

 

“Seriously, though,” she began, once her thought train jumped wildly from one topic to another, prompted by inexplicable connections she had formed between them. “Why would you think I was a stewardess? Who the hell even thinks about stewardesses unless they fly frequently?”

 

“Are you discriminating against stewardesses as a profession, Miss Momoi?” he asked her jokingly through his laughter, and suddenly she straightened up in all seriousness.

 

“Of course not!” she all but exploded, crossing her arms over her chest, but then ending up uncrossing them when the suddenness of her reaction made her feel a little woozy. She straightened herself up by holding onto Daiki’s elbow before she got her balance under proper control. “It’s just… I guess, a line of work I had never even considered for myself. So it came a bit surprising that someone else would consider it for me.”

 

Daiki smiled down at her and resisted the urge to pat her head dotingly as she pouted cutely to his side.

 

“I thought you were a stewardess because that guy you were with was a pilot. Wasn’t he?”

 

Satsuki’s brows scrunched up in a comic mask of surprise, confusion and amusement. Her emotions were so exaggerated as the wheels of her mind made a desperate attempt to catch up on what the fuck he was talking about.

 

“Guy? What _guy_? I’m not friends with gu—oh.” A look of realization dawned on her face when she figured out what—or _who_ , rather—he was talking about. “Ryou-chan.” Right, she had given him a ride once. And he had got her in trouble, just so he could get a good look at Daiki and soothe or prove all her greatest worries. She grinned nonsensically. “Yeah, he’s a guy.”

 

She laughed, when she realized that she’d made the most inane statement ever. Thank you, Captain Obvious, she said to herself, before continuing aloud.

 

“He’s a pilot too, yeah. Very astute observation there, officer Aomine!” she cheerfully clapped her hands together in juvenile fashion. Daiki barely suppressed the grin from dawning on his face.

 

“I know, right? I’ll be putting you out of a job before you know it,” he joked airily, making her laugh before looking dead serious again.

 

“That won’t do. I can’t have you stealing my job. I can’t run after criminals for shit.”

 

She watched him with a vacant look on her face for a moment as he doubled over snickering to himself because of her comment. Then she gave him a toothy grin.

 

“I’m surprised you really paid all that much attention to Ryou-chan. I know he’s kind of pretty, but I was sure he had played it off inconspi—inocon—unimpressive when you guys met.”

 

His mirth from watching and listening to her wrestle with the (overly difficult in her current mental state) word ‘inconspicuous’ before admitting her defeat was dampened by the reminder of the blond pilot. Daiki shoved his hands in his jacket pockets as they continued on towards her apartment.

 

She called him Ryou-chan. Just like she called him Dai-chan. Was he just a substitute for that guy or something? Or what was it? Whatever the case, he didn’t like it one bit.

 

“Well, you guys seemed pretty close,” he told her cryptically, refusing to meet her gaze.

 

And contrary to all logic, despite how drunk he believed she was, it took her only a few strides until she saw through him completely.

 

Her face broke into an ear-splitting Cheshire cat-like grin.

 

“What, were you jealous?” She giggled to herself, as she skipped a step and staggered dangerously. Her legs’ instability made her decide against further prancing. “Dai-chan was jealous. How cute! Dai-chan’s the cutest!” she kept saying in a sing-song voice.

 

All the while Aomine begged the gods above to let the earth open up from under their feet and swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to be subjected to this. How was it possible that she could be drunk enough to be unable to say ‘inconspicuous’, but she could deduce such complex things from his evasive phrasing?!

 

This woman was a genuine enigma. The ways in which her mind worked were extra-terrestrial to him.

 

Her giggles subsided after a while, and she leaned a bit more heavily against his side to keep herself upright. The early autumn chill was starting to send chills down her spine.

 

“Don’t worry, Dai-chan. I’ve known Ryou-chan for over ten years now, and during three of those he’s been in a stable, loving relationship with someone else.” She pressed the pad of her index finger against the tip of his nose, giggling inanely once she retracted her hand from his face. “Ryou-chan is no threat to you. Although, if you want to blame someone for my stalkerish tendencies, you can chalk them up to Ryou-chan. He’s the one who told me I had a green light to act upon it.”

 

Her brows furrowed over her eyes and her step faltered.

 

“Hmm. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Putting my cards down now might not be the best move.”

 

Instead of using the leverage she had just given him against her, Daiki simply chuckled at her antics and her child-like honesty.

 

“You’re drunk, Satsuki. We should get you home.”

 

She glowered at him as she stared up at his face, but there was no real edge to the look.

 

“Shut up! Of course I’m drunk! I’m only 53 kilos! Of course I get drunk easily!” She said it as though she were chiding him, but the only way he could interpret it was wholly different.

 

“Right, right, stop bragging already,” he said, laugher bubbling in his tone again.

 

Her mock-glare turned into a full-fledged pout at this claim of his.

 

“Of course I’ll brag!” she proclaimed unabashedly, stopping completely in her tracks. “Look at this!” She motioned down at herself with a flourish of her hand. “Do you have any idea how many hours in the gym this cost? Of course I’m gonna brag! You would, too, if you were me!”

 

And on the entire way home, with all her ever growing more and more nonsensical arguments, Daiki tried to focus on how silly she as, instead of how vastly relieved he felt that the blond pilot was just a friend of hers and nothing more.

 

* * *

 

When he had to get up at seven the next morning after slipping in bed an hour after midnight, even if he had been a morning person, Daiki was quite certain he would’ve woken up feeling like a zombie raised from the grave.

 

He went about his day, doing his duties on work without any fervour at all. His groggy countenance was easily mistakable for aggravation, though, and it helped him largely to get through dealing with the more difficult cases of wild drivers that day.

 

Who made up early Saturday shifts for traffic officers anyway? He couldn’t help pondering that grudgingly. Whoever it was, he sure hoped they would burn in hell for all eternity as atonement.

 

“Aomine-san, are you okay?” Sakurai asked him sometime around lunch. “You look kind of pale.”

 

His co-worker’s voice pulled Daiki out of his delirium. He had entered a rather curious state of mind, where he wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or not, and if his thoughts were reality or dream. He shook his head to bring some clarity to his garbled mind.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He coughed to clear his throat when he heard how hoarse it was from disuse. “Went to bed late last night,” he said in way of explanation.

 

The ambiguous small smile that played upon Sakurai’s lips was most unusual.

 

“Did something good happen?”

 

Daiki blinked several times to make sure that he was indeed still awake and not hearing things.

 

“Why would you ask that?” How had his colleague gone from worried to cheeky in no time? He didn’t understand.

 

“Well, even though you look so tired all day, every time you get lost in thought or start nodding off, you start smiling. As if you’re remembering something nice.”

 

Daiki’s eyes widened as he blinked his surprise back at his partner.

 

“Sorry if I’m prying. I didn’t mean to,” Sakurai apologized quickly. “I was just thinking it would be great if that’s the case.”

 

Huh. So he had been grinning to himself while he was dozing off, was he? ‘Something nice’ – that was certainly a way to put it, he thought with a smirk.

 

The dark-skinned man shifted his pose in the driver’s seat, until his head (which felt as heavy as though it were made of lead, by the way, courtesy of his exhaustion) was resting upon his fist, propped up by the elbow against the edge of the steering wheel.

 

“How sharp of you, Sakurai,” he complemented the other reservedly. “I had a great evening indeed,” he allowed, letting his eyes slide shut as he reminisced about the aforementioned time.

 

His partner gave him a nervous smile before apologizing again for prying. Daiki threw the guy a curious half-lidded glance as he opened the door on his side, letting himself out of the car.

 

“I’ll take post for a while, Aomine-san. You get some rest if you didn’t sleep enough.”

 

And as he eased his seat back a bit, making it more comfortable to settle into, Daiki tilted his police hat so it shielded his eyes from the glare of the noon sun. He couldn’t help thinking to himself that he may have struck gold without realizing it by being paired up with a guy like Sakurai for this job—regardless of his feelings for the occupation itself.

 

* * *

 

By the time Daiki got back to his apartment, he felt like his entire body was wired with tension and strained like a cord pulled taut. He shrugged off his vest as though it scalded him, and threw it in the general direction of the hanger. He hoped it had stayed up but didn’t care enough to make sure for the time being.

 

Instead, he kicked off his shoes and made a bee line for the bathroom, where he planned to soak himself into the bathtub that he had splurged extra to put in there just for days like this.

 

A very long and warm bath later, Daiki felt a lot better. Or, well, at least he didn’t feel like one of the walking dead anymore – and that was a good place to start, he believed.

 

He made himself a couple of extra-large sandwiches and munched on them absent-mindedly while watching TV.

 

When he stirred with a start, he realized he must’ve dozed off sometime during that movie. He checked his watch and saw that it was well past ten—a suitable hour, he decided, for heading to bed for good.

 

Only after he sat upright on his couch did he catch with his peripheral vision the blinking light of his cell phone. Quirking a brow, he reached over to it with one hand while rubbing the sleep out of his eye with the other.

 

A message? But it was too early in the month for his phone bill to have come out, and none of his friends sent him messages unless it was some kind of holiday.

 

His eyes widened a fraction when he opened the menu which showed him who the sender was. The navy-haired man spent considerable effort convincing himself that it wasn’t like he suddenly started wanting to see what the message was way more than before he saw it was from her.

 

‘ _Goodnight, Dai-chan_ ,’ softly glowed from the screen of his phone—a text sent by none other than the girl who had been on his mind the whole day.

 

‘ _Nite, Satsuki_ ,’ he sent back as he picked himself up from the couch, lumbering towards his bedroom.

 

It was funny, really: how one short text message could brighten his whole evening, and whisk away all off the tension from his tired body.

 

* * *

 

It’s not like he had been throwing expectant glances at his phone all day Sunday or anything. He hadn’t.

 

He really hadn’t!

 

And it was just sheer curiosity that prompted him to pick up the electronic device when it beeped with a message received in the evening.

 

‘ _Ugh, im so tired. Save me!_ ’ her text read. He shook his head at her antics, amused, when the phone vibrated in his hold with a new message received.

 

‘ _U didnt seem to me like a guy whos into textin, so imma keep pokin u till u respond!_ ’ He could just picture her perfectly in his mind’s eye pecking excitedly at her phone’s keys as she typed up her messages.

 

‘ _How was ur day?_ ’ the third message read, and this time it was a lot easier for Daiki to respond.

 

‘ _Great-I stayed in bed all day n only got out for food._ ’ It’s not like he wrote it just to tease her. He really didn’t have anything going on today, so he ended up spending it in front of the TV, playing video games and watching movies.

 

‘ _Ehh, so unfair~ I wanna goof off too : <_’ she texted back the next minute, and he couldn’t help chuckling when he visualized that very pout she had shown him several times in person. ‘ _But instead, I gotta finish this database till tomorrow ; < Woe is me~ ;_;’_

 

He snickered to himself again as he languidly typed up his response.

 

‘ _Hang in there, champ_ ,’ was what he sent when he was finally done.

 

‘ _Meanie! uwu u’r just being cheeky cuz u got ur 8 hrs sleep today T.T_ ,’ her next text read. And as he paid more heed to it, he realized that she was a lot better at handling her phone that he was—after all, her texts were both longer and came quicker than his did.

 

He was pulled out of that reverie when the cell vibrated in his hand again, signalling the arrival of a new message.

 

‘ _So did u start missin me yet? ^.~_ ’ it said. He felt his lips stretch into a grin as he hummed thoughtfully to himself, wondering what to respond.

 

He also took extra time typing it up, just to grill her a bit more with waiting for his answer.

 

‘ _Maybe, who knows_ ’ was his ambiguous and short answer. He cackled to himself impishly, just as the phone beeped with a new message arriving.

 

‘ _Dai-chan u meanie! tease! >.<!_ _im not writin to u anymore!’_ was what it said, and, true to her word, in the next couple of minutes, nothing new arrived.

 

He imagined that she had left her phone to the side, huffing to herself and busying herself with her work. He grinned as he started typing.

 

‘ _Dont be mad, I was just kidding,_ ’ he texted her.

 

‘ _Hmph!_ ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ,’ was the reply he received.

 

‘ _How about I take u out tomorrow to make it up to u?_ ’ he suggested, expecting her to continue pouting.

 

‘ _Ohh n here i was sure id ring up a huge phone bill before u got to ask ^w^,_ ’ her text said.

 

And then he really did laugh aloud.

 

* * *

 

The time they agree on for their date is a couple of days later, with Daiki being unusually thoughtful in letting Satsuki get some rest after all her hard work. Their date, he suggests, is going to be her treat for being a diligent worker, and his suggestion makes her giggle but she goes along with it.

 

On the day when she was required to drop off the data, she was already dressed as he had instructed her—casually elegant, in something easy to move in. When she’d asked what he had in mind, he had refused to let her know, promising to let it be a surprise for when they got there.

 

“You’ve dressed up quite nicely, Momoi-san,” Harasawa-san, her superior, complimented her when she showed up at the agency to drop off her finished work.

 

His comment made the corners of Satsuki’s lips curl, and she made a little twirl that caused the knee-length skirt of her dress billow up around her.

 

“Why, thank you, Harasawa-san,” she said melodiously, giving a little curtsy. “I happen to have a date after this, so I thought I’d prim up before leaving home.”

 

She briefly exchanged some more pleasantries with her co-workers, but the truth was she could hardly wait to leave. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy spending time with them, but she was so looking forward to what came after work she could barely contain her excitement from showing in her very countenance.

 

An hour later, she got off at the station Daiki had told her to meet him at. And, surely enough, there he was, in a navy shirt under his light jacket, just as casually elegant as she was, waiting for her outside the station.

 

When he looked up and their eyes met, she had to mentally smack herself for the schoolgirl-like skip her heart made. Way to be juvenile, Satsuki! She chastised herself as she smiled pleasantly to him as she approached. He pushed away from the wall he was leaning against, falling in stride with her.

 

“Hey there, stranger,” she greeted conversationally, making him smirk back at her in return.

 

“Hey yourself.” She didn’t miss the appreciative once-over that he gave her. It was all she could do to keep herself from doing a self-satisfied fist-pump at the nod of approval he gave her. “Looking sharp.”

 

“Thank you,” she said with a mock-curtsy and the grin his compliment brought to her face was brilliant. “So where are we going?” she asked him as they walked on together, her hands clasping behind her back.

 

Daiki simply smiled enigmatically at her, telling her she’d see when they got there.

 

“It’s a place I used to frequent a lot when I was fresh out of high school,” he told her when they neared what appeared like a club. “I’m sure you’ll like it,” he told her confidently, as they went in through the large double doors.

 

If the jubilant expression on her face as they walked in was anything to go by, he had hit the nail on the head.

 

* * *

 

In all honesty, Daiki wasn’t really a big fan of dancing, discos and clubs in general.

 

He used to go a bit wild back in the days, but those times were long past. He had always felt like he had two left feet whenever he tried dancing, and the only reason he hadn’t minded it that much when he was younger was because he was usually inebriated enough not to sweat the details.

 

Being part of the law enforcement now, a part of him couldn’t help but have a certain distaste of clubs, where the lighting’s dim, patrons are drunk and the lines between right and wrong become easily blurred in the loud blare of the music.

 

However, regardless of his feelings about it, the truth was that coming to a place like this was the perfect excuse to get bodily close to her without it seeming overly daring or suggestive.

 

Daiki had long since established that, obviously, she wasn’t the only one with a penchant for unhealthily strong obsessions. If anything, the closer the time for their next meeting came, the antsier and impatient he became. Time just couldn’t pass fast enough, until he’d have the chance to see and talk to her again, feast his eyes on her perfection and get to exchange flirtatious smiles and banter with her.

 

In light of that, he would willingly subject himself to the discomfort of having to dance, as long as she was there to make it all worth his trouble.

 

And make it worth his trouble she did, with that mesmerizing sway of her hips and those graceful moves of her perfect form.

 

Every few songs, they went to sit down at their booth, where the cocktails they had ordered waited for them.

 

The lighting in the club was dim, so he couldn’t confirm it visually, but judging from the heat coming off her in waves and the excitement in her voice, he could tell that she was having a blast. He could also make out the fact that her exhaustion coupled with the alcohol in their drinks was getting to her head.

 

He chuckled as he watched her finish off her cocktail, setting the tall glass down with a flourish of her hand. She let out an audible sigh, letting her back rest against the cushions of the couch of their booth.

 

“Wow! I haven’t partied this much in years!” she exulted as she fanned herself with her hand to help her cool off even a little. “I’ve missed dancing like this.”

 

“So I notice,” he told her with a knowing grin, leaning against the back of the couch, too.

 

His comment made Satsuki turn to him with a small pout.

 

“I can’t help thinking that you’re not enjoying this as much as I am, though—correct me if I’m wrong,” she surmised, giving him a critical stare.

 

He blinked a few times, taken aback somewhat that she had pinpointed his reluctance so perfectly. His expression morphed into a wolfish grin as he relaxed his back against the cushions, putting his arms atop of the edges of the couch. In doing so, he effectively had an arm over her bare shoulders without actually touching her.

 

“Oh, but I am enjoying it—every second of it,” he told her huskily, leaning close as though he were telling her a secret.

 

And as he looked at her features, her brow glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, framed by the faint glow of the colourful lights in the club, there wasn’t even a trace of lie in his statement.

 

Even though joints like this weren’t his cup of tea anymore, getting to be close enough to her to feel her body heat, the tickle of her hair brushing against his arm, getting to see her all flushed and elated like this was a treat by all means.

 

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and the movement was so tender, the intimacy of it so promising and exhilarating, she felt her pulse speed up again in a way that had nothing to do with the strain from the dance floor.

 

She was looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes of hers, transfixed, as he deliberated whether he should lean in or pull away. But before he could arrive at a decision, she suddenly perked up to attention.

 

“Oh, oh!” She was practically bouncing up in her seat in excitement. “We’re not sitting this one out! Come on, Dai-chan!” she prattled on happily, jumping out of her seat and tugging on his arm to get him up as well.

 

He chuckled, letting her lead him to the edge of the dance floor. He realized that what had caught her attention as successfully had been the first bass notes of a song—one she was obviously familiar with. She didn’t give him much time to deliberate a course of action as she placed both his hands on her hips and snaked her arms over his shoulders, clasping them against the back of his neck.

 

They started swaying to the tantalizing rhythm, moving step for step against one another, as the melody started escalating. He could feel rather than hear her humming along with it, the vibrations carrying through her chest pressed against his. He saw her lips moving, softly singing along with the vocal, but he was so riveted by the seductive vision she became in his embrace that he had hardly any heed to spare to anything else going on.

 

He was so aware of the press of her soft breasts against his chest that the skin underneath her touch was practically searing. His hearing was hindered by the concentration of his focus on how her lower body was rubbing against him with her movements. Her small, slender arms around his neck were like a snare, trapping him into the intensity of her gaze, as she demurely looked up at him every now and then while dancing against him.

 

It settled in belatedly, what he heard her say. It had grabbed his attention, because it was something he was very familiar with—seeing as how he was in the same situation, too. As it registered, he realized it was a song lyric. But he could certainly relate to having dreamt about her nearly every night that week.

 

Just as the rhythm started picking up pace, her fluid movements started becoming more pronounced, immersing him completely in her spell. He figured vaguely that they must be at the chorus when she fixed him with her half-lidded, sensual gaze. Her knees bent slightly as she made a light dip against him, sending a shiver down his spine from the way her supple breasts pressing against him felt, her hands running down from his shoulders to his chest.

 

When she stood upright again, she locked her hands behind his neck again, a small sigh on her lips. The hypnotizing beat of the song and his closeness were making it hard to focus. The drinks she’d had were starting to get to her head, making it hard to conjure up any coherent thought. All she could think about was how lovely and reassuring it felt pressed up against him like this, the warmth of his body seeping to her through the thin fabric of his shirt, his cologne permeating her nostrils.

 

She hadn’t really planned on seducing him with this. She hadn’t even accounted on getting this riled up from dancing to this song with him. But as she continued undulating her shoulders to the rhythm, her hips rolling against his, she realized that her desire to close the small gap between them kept growing stronger in her.

 

They had been tiptoeing around each other for what felt like quite a while. They hadn’t really known each other all that long, but she had felt the spark between them ever since first laying eyes on him.

 

And now, she could feel that the tension between them—just like the music—was slowly yet certainly heading towards a peak. It had to get there, in order for something to happen—in order to make one of them succumb.

 

Daiki felt her tugging him down, so he allowed her to lead him into it, until she was all he could see.

 

“— _sorry to interrupt, it’s just I’m constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you_ ,” she sang to him, her hot breath fanning against his lips.

 

And when the words sank in, he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a little, a boyish thrill seizing him. Was she just singing along, or was she flirting through the text? The thought made his tongue dart out to moisten his lips.

 

It didn’t elude his notice for even a moment that her eyes were immediately drawn to his mouth when he did so.

 

“ _I don’t know if you feel the same as I do_ ,” she continued breathlessly, her voice an enthralling lilt. “ _But we could be together…_ ” Her gaze locked with his, holding him in place. “ _If you wanted to…_ ”

 

And when his hand reached up to clasp on her shoulder then, he could feel that her skin had erupted in gooseflesh, and there was no need to wonder if she meant it or she was just singing anymore.

 

Their swaying slowed to a stop the closer he allowed himself to come to her. Her eyes were pinned to his lips gravitating closer, her breath hitched in her throat. And when he closed the gap between them in one fell swoop, she could swear that her heart had fled the confines of her ribcage.

 

His kiss was soft, tentative and hot. His mouth was burning her—burnt down her reason, her mind, set her entire body aflame. Her hand grabbed a fistful of his shirt as she pulled herself up to her tiptoes, pressing herself against him as much as she could physically manage, considering their difference of height.

 

His kiss had started out soft and sweet, almost naïve. But when she responded so fervently to it, he crushed her to himself with impressive force, his embrace firm and unrelenting. She could feel the urgency in how adamant his mouth was against hers—searching, yearning. She gasped against him, and when his tongue slipped into her mouth, all the air was gone from her lungs.

 

How did one breathe again? Not that it mattered much to her, as she buried her hand in his hair.

 

She had always had confidence that she was a great kisser—after all, people said that those who could tie a cherry stalk with their tongues only were supposed to be good at that kind of thing, right? She could do that since high school, so she’d been pretty convinced that her technique was enough to reduce any guy to a quivering mess of emotions if it came to kissing.

 

So why was it that she was the one feeling like a mess now? His tongue was hot, moist and imploring in her mouth, pressing against hers in a way that was more erotic than any kiss she’d ever had in her life. When she let him into her mouth, it was like she had let him tug on her very heartstrings, playing upon them effortlessly, until she was panting and holding onto him for dear life.

 

When they parted for air, he gave her kiss-swollen lower lip a teasing lick before smirking down at her flushed expression. He caressed her cheek, dusted pink with desire. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes as she revelled in the feeling.

 

That’s about the time the reality of the situation came back to them both. They were still in public. People were staring over their shoulders, knowing smirks and prying eyes sent their way.

 

Both of their faces heated with embarrassment.

 

“Ah, the song ended,” Satsuki noticed at last, doing her best to sound sheepish. She failed miserably. “I’m feeling a bit dizzy. Should we sit down?”

 

“As you wish,” he agreed, leading her away to their booth.

 

The truth was that he was feeling a little dizzy himself, thanks to how winded their kiss had left him. So as they eased into their seats, he sighed deeply, trying to catch his breath again.

 

His face was angled away from her, as he licked his lips. He could taste her lip-gloss on his lips and tongue. He hadn’t shared a kiss this intense with anyone in years. He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever been kissed like that before. She was like fire, tempestuous and her ardour contagious, thoroughly thrilling.

 

When he turned his gaze to her, opening his mouth to say something, the thought evaporated before it could get verbalized. Because she looked so delectable, a somewhat dreamy expression on her pretty features, as she did her best to compose herself and to seize control over her rampant heartbeat.

 

She felt his gaze on her. She returned his scrutiny, and the more she continued staring into his deep blue eyes, the stronger their force of pulling her in again became. Before she knew it, her neck was craned, eyes sliding shut as her lips sought out his for another kiss.

 

As his mouth pressed against hers again, she felt a jolt run through the point of contact, becoming a pleasant shiver that ran the length of her spine before becoming drowned in the pool of heat in her tummy. When their tongues intertwined again, a whole flock of butterflies started fluttering in her stomach.

 

His breath tickled her cheek, and the warmth of his body seeped into her being, making her flush. His tongue was adept and imploring as he dipped it into her mouth, the feelings he roused in her as he kissed her like that making it impossible not to let out throaty moan against him.

 

He lost track of how many kisses they exchanged. All he knew is that by the time he got his wits about him enough to realize what was going on, she was practically sitting in his lap, her mouth slightly ajar, lips swollen and eyes half-lidded and glazed over with ardour.

 

He had come to his senses because all the appreciative sounds and sighs she made were becoming harder and harder not to mind.

 

Daiki cradled her face, tracing her lips with his thumb.

 

“I think we should take this somewhere else,” he rasped out, his breath laboured.

 

“I couldn’t agree more,” she told him in a pant. She put her hands on his shoulders, giving him a chaste kiss as she rose to her feet again. “My place or yours?”

 

Frankly, he didn’t give a damn.

 

As long as it wouldn’t take them too long to get there. His self-control had already mostly slipped, and a long trek to wherever private would be much too excruciating.

 

The way she squeezed his hand when her fingers laced with his was some consolation in the sense she seemed to be equally impatient.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t enter the apartment as much as they tumbled inside it once she opened the door.

 

Their lips were still locked together the entire time as they struggled to get inside, never once breaking contact. The door shut under the weight of Daiki’s body being pushed against it, and the lock clicked shut behind him thanks to Satsuki’s quick fingers as he took a small stride away from the entrance.

 

She helped him divest his jacket, moving to hold onto him by his shirt instead. Her tongue dipped into his mouth more fervently while he helped her shrug off her own jacket as well. She started backing away towards the inside of her abode as Daiki’s hands began taking frivolities with exploring the curves of her body.

 

Her gasps and moans as he touched, squeezed and thoroughly mapped her perfection through her clothes made him aware that he hadn’t been the only one for whom the twenty minute trip to Satsuki’s apartment had seemed like an eternity. Her fingernails were digging into his scalp and shoulder, witness to the urgency she felt while she continued raining kisses upon his lips, jaw and the column of his neck.

 

“Bedroom?” he asked huskily, voice barely a whisper. She pointed over her shoulder towards a door.

 

His target now acquired, Daiki picked up Satsuki, letting her legs wrap around him as he carried her towards her bedroom. She didn’t make the short trip there any easier for him, though, what with the mind-numbing way she attacked his neck with open-mouthed kisses.

 

When she felt the comfort of the mattress under her back, Satsuki let out a soft sigh. Her date paused only briefly to give her a long look full of desire before busying himself with kissing her senseless once more.

 

His kisses were truly going to be the death of her, she was certain. It was ridiculous how a contact so simple as a kiss could set her whole body aflame with desire. When his tongue swept over her lips and dipped into her mouth, exploring with soft licks and slight sucks at her own tongue, her stomach tied into knots, which every caress of his only tightened further.

 

His fingers were warm, the skin of them calloused, and the feeling of his hands like that trailing along her ribcage, her abdomen, then her hip and thigh made her arch her back to press herself further into his touch. His fingers were rough but his caress was heart wrenchingly soft, making her feel like some kind of earthly goddess.

 

His mouth moved to lavish her neck and sensitive ears with attention, utterly distracting her from his explorations of her body. When he sucked at her pulse point, a jolt of pleasure made her back arch off the bed, pressing her chest into him. She felt his smirk against her skin, and he used her reaction to his advantage, taking down the zipper at the back of her dress.

 

She gasped loudly when his teeth grazed her earlobe, his deft tongue swiping out to lick and tease at the shell and lobe. The warm throb between her legs was getting really distracting as his fingers appreciated her chest, still clad in her bra.

 

She sat up a little to help him take the dress off of her. It was a dress she had always loved greatly, but the hungry, carnivorous look in his eyes made it impossible to have mind to spare to anything else but quickly getting rid of any clothes still hindering her wandering hands—and his.

 

She busied herself with his shirt, but there were too many buttons to deal with for her taste, and she soon let out a little growl of irritation, despite the amazing way his hands ran appreciatively over her upper body.

 

He chuckled at her reaction and helped her with ridding him of his shirt. Once it was off, she took a moment to gaze and trace his broad chest reverently, before planting kisses in the trek her fingers had just gone.

 

He enjoyed her ministrations, but he felt like there were more pressing matters to attend to. So as she pushed him down, giving her dainty fingers free reign over his bare chest, groping, touching and feeling, he reached behind her to unclasp her bra. When he didn’t seem to be any better at helping her out of it than she had been with dealing with his shirt, it was Satsuki’s turn to titter, doing with only two fingers what he couldn’t manage with both hands.

 

He couldn’t be damned to mind the sorcery that was involved with women’s bras, because he was much too mesmerized by what marvel her bra had been hiding from his view.

 

Aomine Daiki had been a breast-man for as long as he could recall. He liked big boobs and he was never shy to say so aloud, too, to anyone who wanted to know. And Satsuki’s boobs had always intrigued him greatly, even before he had the chance of getting to know anything about her.

 

But now, being in her bed, with her on top of him, her beautiful ample breasts brushing with their silken soft skin against his taut muscles—it was like something out of a dream.

 

He flipped them over, until she was pinned beneath him. Her initial gasp of surprise was followed by an irritated growl that he had halted her exploration of his body. However, her displeasure died in her throat, to be replaced by a sultry moan when he took a pert nipple in his mouth, greedily sucking on the sensitive flesh.

 

Empowered by her reaction, Daiki decided to let his breast-fetish have free reign, as he allowed his free hand to wander to her other boob, fondling and kneading the flesh before pinching the erect nipple between his fingers. His mouth was merciless on the other one, drawing moan after moan from her.

 

He just couldn’t get over how perfect she was. Her breasts were just the right size—soft flesh overflowing from his large palms. Her skin was so white and velvety, so wonderful to the touch that he could probably die happy as long as he could stay between those perfect mounds for the rest of his life.

 

His hands and mouth had already crumbled her defences earlier, but when he showered her chest with such thorough attention, Daiki had her squirming and whimpering beneath him in no time. Her whole body had become hypersensitive to his touch, every inch of her craving all of him ever since they shared that dance in the club. She loved the way he squeezed her breast, ran it flat against her belly taut with tension and exhilaration, and how he caressed her thigh. But that was not where she wanted him to touch—where she needed him most.

 

And the way he kept massaging her chest while teasing her nipples did nothing to alleviate the growing tension pooling in her gut.

 

“Daiki!” she managed between moans, the lustfulness of her voice effectively drawing him out of his boob-happy reverie. “ _Daiki!_ ” she called out imploringly, her fingers cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss.

 

She wrapped her legs around his waist again, rolling her hips against his in a desperate search for friction. He growled against her mouth into their kiss, grinding his pelvis against hers too. In letting his lower body brush against hers, he realized that she wasn’t the only one who was becoming impatient.

 

He tore away from her embrace only briefly, to take off his pants and underwear that had long since become stifling. He was back to her in no time, taking off her panties while she kept pressing kisses to his face and neck.

 

“Hurry, please,” she said in a tiny voice against the crook of his neck. The warmth of her breath against his flesh made him feel a shiver rake his spine.

 

The first thrust he made into her folds stole the air from both their lungs. She hadn’t had half a mind to notice, but he was impressive—in size and girth, and she needed some time to accommodate him. As for Daiki, he had longed for this moment so much he would hate to be unable to savour it.

 

When he felt it was all right to move, he set a slow pace at first. The tight velvety softness of her interior around his rock hard erection was like heaven on earth to him. He revelled in the feeling of pulling almost entirely out, before sheathing himself to hilt inside her again. He savoured the gasps and whimpers she made as he filled her to the brim.

 

He had thought so the entire night, but she was definitely the most beautiful right then—pinned beneath him, legs spread and wrapped around him, cheeks flushed with arousal and brow furrowed in concentration.

 

She grabbed hold of him again, pulling him in for another one of their heart-stopping kisses as he continued his languid thrusts in and out of her. Her legs tightened around his hips, bringing him in even further, keeping him buried deeper.

 

She kept chanting his name like a mantra, her voice a torn gasp as he picked up the pace of his rhythm. He loved the feeling of her breasts bouncing and brushing against his chest as he kept driving in and out of her relentlessly. He loved the way her inner walls clamped around him, constantly moving just as he did. He loved the way she said his name in his ear as she clung to him desperately, nails raking down his back as he kept ramming into her with increasing force.

 

He knew she was getting closer by the fact her moans became more stringent, her voice strangled in her throat. That was good, because he wasn’t going to last—not since she started calling his name like that, against the shell of his ear; not since she started rolling her hips to meet him thrust for thrust like she had.

 

She came with a keening moan, her toes curling and her legs’ hold on his waist tightening until it was almost bruising. He didn’t care—the way she latched onto him dragged him over the edge as well. He followed her with a growl he muffled against the soft flesh at the crook of her neck.

 

Two more jerks of his hips into her, and he felt completely spent. The white blob from behind his eyelids settled into the blinding whiteness in his mind. His whole body was shuddering from the force of his orgasm, and in the sudden quietness of the room he could hear both of their ragged breathing.

 

He realized that he had let his entire weight on her, so he turned them over until they were laying side by side on her bed. His pulled out of her with a sigh, letting his eyelids slide shut as he enjoyed the feeling of the afterglow. It was like all the tension from the past several weeks had disappeared without a trace. The unseen burden was gone from his chest and he could finally breathe freely again.

 

The room was plunged in darkness, so when Daiki opened his sapphire eyes, he couldn’t exactly see her do so, but he could feel her fingers caressing a strand of his sweat-moistened hair against his temple. The movement was so gentle and tender, it made a knot, unlike the one of arousal he had just worked though, tie in his stomach.

 

He relished the gentleness of her touch for a while. Her movements were calm and repetitive, lulling him into a sense of serenity and relaxation. He was as good as hypnotized when he found his voice again.

 

“What?” he asked her, raising his brows expectantly.

 

Even in the darkness of the room, he could make out the dreamy smile on her face.

 

“Nothing. It’s just…” She sighed softly. “It felt short.”

 

Daiki grimaced so severely that it made her realize belatedly how faulty her phrasing was. She laughed when it dawned on her how it must’ve sounded to him.

 

“No, no,” she hurriedly amended, continuing to caress his hair. “What I meant is that—I wanted it so much, and yet after it happened it seems like I didn’t get to savour it.”

 

Daiki’s expression was still deadpan.

 

“How is that better than before?” he asked with a roll of his eyes, the bliss from before already starting to evaporate in face of the conversation he didn’t want to be having about this.

 

She was a tiny thing compared to him, and yet when she pinned him down to keep him from evading her, she held him down with impressive strength for that small body of hers.

 

She kissed him, fixing him with a reprimanding look.

 

“I’m trying to make you a compliment—stop pouting.”

 

“How exactly is that a compliment?” he demanded tersely, but the edge was gone from his voice.

 

Damn her and her kisses!

 

“I haven’t had enough of you—better?” she rephrased, leaning in for another kiss. It was slow and deliberate, full of quietly smouldering passion. “I can’t get enough of you with just that,” she whispered against his lips, pressing a kiss to his earlobe as well. “I want more of you, all of you.” She kissed his neck next, with those kisses that seared his skin. “So you better own up for making me feel like this, Daiki.”

 

He let her have her way with him for a moment more, before she ended up being the one looking up from the bed to face him.

 

His smile as he loomed above her was impish and full of promise.

 

“So once is not enough?” he inquired, making sure they were on the same page as he mimicked her earlier ministrations by pressing a kiss to her pulse point.

 

“Not nearly,” she said in a sigh, her hands lacing in his hair.

 

“Well, the night is still young anyway,” he told her in a sultry tone while he nestled himself into a comfortable position between her legs.

 

He leant down to kiss her, long and deep, before continuing south.

 

They’d have plenty of time to correct that.

 

* * *

 

When Daiki awoke then next morning, it was to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling, in an unfamiliar room.

 

He blinked profusely, trying to rid himself of the vestiges of sleep as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. He looked around himself, trying to spot anything that could kick-start his memory a little.

 

He was languidly putting on his boxers when memories of the previous night started slowly seeping into his conscious mind. An impish smirk curled his lips. He dragged himself out of Satsuki’s bed, stretching his back and setting his bones and muscles back in place—or at least that’s how the bliss that followed his stretch felt like.

 

Waking up in someone else’s bed wasn’t particularly new for him, per se, but he rarely ever stayed overnight. Then again, she had been so insatiable they had kept it up until the wee hours of the morning. His smirk morphed into a feral grin just at the memory of their night together.

 

He’d known that woman was something, but he had never suspected just how much she could blow his mind.

 

A yawn so wide it felt like his jaws would unhinge raked him. He pushed himself up to his feet, scratching the back of his neck as he left her bedroom. Even if he wasn’t unfamiliar with waking up in a woman’s bed, waking up _alone_ in a woman’s bed wasn’t something he particularly cared to get used to.

 

Once he was out of her bedroom, though, all traces of sleepiness and awkwardness siphoned out of his being. His nostrils were attacked by an alarming stench, while his eyes took in a sight he would’ve never expected.

 

There, in her kitchenette, was Satsuki, in just a long t-shirt that looked a few sizes too big for her, jumping from bare foot to bare foot in what looked like an indoor rain dance of sorts. The incredulous sounds that were coming out of her mouth were pure comedy gold, emphasized by the hilariously panicked expression on her face.

 

She would’ve made for the most amusing sight in the history of humanity if the pan she was holding wasn’t on fire.

 

Wait. What?

 

Daiki practically launched himself at her, taking the pan from out of her hands and leaving it under running water before anything else could catch fire.

 

“Ah! No!” she whined out lamentingly. “I worked really hard on that!”

 

“To make what? A torch?” Daiki shook his head in disbelief. “What the hell were you thinking? How do you set _fire_ to something you cook?”

 

Her eyes were a bit watery—most probably from the smoke from her ‘dish’. A pout was firmly set onto her features as she stared forlornly at her failed attempt at breakfast now soaking in the sink.

 

“I don’t know,” she despaired. “I just wanted to make something quick and easy for breakfast when you woke up. But instead, this is what happens!” She sighed dramatically, slumping into a chair at the dinner table behind her. “Why am I always so bad at this? It makes no sense.”

 

The navy haired man looked at her slouched, petulantly pouting form with his cobalt eyes alive with mirth. He chuckled at her, caressing her face.

 

“You wanted to surprise me with breakfast?”

 

Her expression in response was crooked.

 

“Well, yeah!” She scoffed—most probably at herself—and crossed her arms over her chest. “It turned out to be quite the disaster, though.”

 

She sighed deeply, as she pushed herself up to stand. She threw another crestfallen look at the mess in the sink, before something finally dawned on her.

 

“Oh, you’re up!” she exclaimed, touching a hand to her lips shyly. “Good morning!” she beamed at him. Something else occurred to her then, so she added, “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

 

Daiki chuckled, shaking his head at her. It made her breathe a sigh of relief. It was truly beyond him how she could find so much energy to be so perky so early in the morning.

 

He’d noticed that once before, when she’d come to him during his shift once, hadn’t he?

 

Speaking of which, the disaster in the pan wasn’t a first either. He distinctly remembered a similar atrocity packed in a lunchbox she had given him before, too.

 

The memory made him fix her with an amused look—somewhat dampened by the fact his eyes were still half-lidded and sleep-laden.

 

“Cooking isn’t exactly your forte, is it?” he surmised at length, making her exhale noisily through her nose, looking away.

 

“Guess not,” she huffed, glaring daggers at the fridge.

 

Daiki contained his snicker from her reaction, taking up a spatula and a sponge.

 

“How about we go through the motions of what you did, so I can tell you where it went wrong?”

 

He was almost ready with cleaning the pan by the time Satsuki found her voice again.

 

“You’d do that for me?” she asked, her voice incredulous with gratitude and reverence. He could practically see her eyes twinkling with joy, her hands clasped in front of her.

 

This time he did allow himself a small laugh as he shook his head at her. He patted her head gently after he dried his hands.

 

He barely kept the comment that there were very few things at this point that he _wouldn’t_ do for her—she didn’t need to know or have that kind of power over him.

 

“Sure I would. You were willing to set your apartment on fire just to make breakfast for me – it’s the least I can do!”

 

She face faulted at his commentary, pinching his bare arm none too gently. Her reaction made him laugh aloud.

 

“Okay, okay, sorry—no more jabs at your cooking ineptitude.” His phrasing earned him another small pinch. “Stop attacking me! I promised, didn’t I?”

 

“Not my fault you’re waltzing around in just your underwear,” she muttered, looking away from him.

 

Daiki was already taking the eggs from the fridge and turning on the rice cooker when it sank in.

 

“What, am I distracting you?” She could practically hear the smug grin in his voice, so her hand automatically launched at him again.

 

Before she could smack him or pinch him, his hand captured her wrist, pulling her closer against him. She blinked confusedly up at him, his index finger shaking in her face.

 

“Nuh uh, no more of your sneak attacks, missy.” He tilted her head up by her chin, realizing how her closeness was affecting him—especially since the events of the previous night were fresh in his mind. “Besides, it’s good to have the tables turned on you for once.”

 

“Oh, _please_ ,” she started, not at all convinced.

 

He didn’t give her a chance to refute him, covering her mouth with his own, his lips moving lazily against hers.

 

He pulled away much too soon than they both would’ve liked, but he wasn’t about to set her pan on fire again. Daiki gave her one last smug smirk before facing the stove again.

 

“Are you watching carefully?” he asked her haughtily as he stirred the eggs in the pan. “You’re doing it yourself next time.”

 

“Yes, Master!” she chimed in cheerfully, putting forks and bowls on the table. She plopped down in her seat, and she was the embodiment of careful scrutiny as he finished making breakfast.

 

She didn’t know if it was the fact he had saved her from setting her apartment on fire, or that he was here, in her kitchen, making breakfast that he was going to have with her. The way he had phrased it, though, it sounded like a promise. It sounded like it wasn’t the only time he’d share the first meal of the day with her.

 

All of it just made her so giddy she could barely keep herself from bouncing excitedly in her seat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t going to end it here, but it got way out of control. I have like a thousand more things I want to happen, and if they do all in the same chapter, it will throw the balance of the story completely off. So there will be one more installment to this fic!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are strongly encouraged! :3


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